


The DJ's Guide to Juxtaposition

by TheCursedTypewriter



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Also hELLO RAREPAIR YOU HAVE FEW FICS, I guess this is slow burn?, I just enjoy that ship enough to include nudges at it, I will donate to the hoard, M/M, The Hancio hoard, They will date soon but not soon enough, but it won't be a focus at any point, for now let's assume that they're posted in their own countries or are off doing their own things, more characters will be added in later chapters, so fret not, there will be slight meicree
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-22 04:24:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9583511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCursedTypewriter/pseuds/TheCursedTypewriter
Summary: The saying goes that opposites attract. Lucio wonders just how true that phrase can be.





	1. A Day in the Life of Lúcio

When Lucio had first gotten the invitation to join Overwatch’s ranks, he couldn’t believe it. A professional letter had been delivered backstage after another underground performance, stamped with the organization’s trademark logo. At first he’d thought it’d been some kind of joke - after all, it wasn’t like he’d tried to apply or anything before. Opening the envelop had him quaking, and the letter itself practically blew him through the roof. The voices of the renowned Overwatch, requesting his hand in rebuilding their legend. 

He could recall the exhilaration that pulsed through him; how quickly he’d skated through the crowded alleys of Janerio in a rush to inform his family. He can’t remember a time in his life where he’d moved with such speed, blasting down steep alleys and skating off of the walls every other corner. Most of the older city goers sweeping their porches and beating their rugs shouted out after him, whereas teens and young adults alike cheered him on in his outburst. The excitement that coursed through his veins then continued when he’d gotten home, reading the letter over and over again. His heart was moving faster than his mind could at this point. He hastily shoved as many clothes into a duffel bag as he could, keen on arriving as soon as possible.

The sad farewell to follow his swell of excitement was one he could remember just as well. Packed up and flight booked, he gave a hug and a kiss to each family member before he left, promising to do good by them on his way out. The tears shed there hurt, but the pain wouldn’t last. He knew that this was his literal calling to do something amazing, and that by answering to it, his family would be able to live happily. He’d be leaving behind so much of his home, but he knew that the world could only get better from here. There were more and more people beginning to lend a hand to a greater world, and he was ready to officially step up and do the same. 

Being in Overwatch, he’d be able to be the difference the world needed. He’d finally be able to do everything he’d always wanted.

He can remember the day as if it were just yesterday, a pleasant warmth rising in his chest as he strutted through the halls of the massive base. In his younger years, Lucio had thought that Gibraltar would be the tightest squeeze of a base the world had ever known. Imagine his surprise, walking in and being greeted by the echoes of his own feet. He was able to properly introduce himself in a place they’d call the Break Room, shocked to find members his own age as well. Because of them, things were a lot more laid back than what most would call the “old” Overwatch set up.

Nothing was confined to a strict schedule, he’d found, aside from eating and training. Sure, the place had some rules, but the majority of those rules he knew were to make sure that Athena’s core wasn’t worn out by the bustling energy within. For example, use of specific outlets were restricted to certain degrees, like the heating and cooling systems. Too much heat could melt Athena’s controls, and the cold could slow her systems. Technology may have been way advanced, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be overworked like a person.

Which brought another thing to think about:

With the rising accounts of terroristic attacks on omnic populations, he was given full view of the job before him: protect the people, and defend the Omnics. He now stood for both leagues against the backlash of a divided world. Report after report, file after file, almost thousands of hate crime cases came in and were looked at, sorted, and arranged. In Lucio’s honest opinion, it was an indecent way of categorizing it. 

Hate - in any form - was hate, and just because it wasn’t as bad in one place as it was in another, it didn’t make it any less relevant. He’d stood for the smaller voices of the world back in Rio, pushing back against major corporations to save his town. A man against a militia, he had to single handedly protect his home from harm. Overwatch as a group, however, could not function this way. As a military force, they knew that the bigger the problem, the worse the damage was and could get. It was up to them to take out the core of the problem ahead of time, and though Lucio found it hard to do, he contributed as best as he could.  
Overwatch was a good thing, after all; it was there to help those who couldn’t help themselves. If it meant doing the right thing, Lucio was all for it. They’d get there, he just needed to be patient.

Lucio snaps out of his recollection to focus on the task at hand.

With his arms occupied by a box of tools, it was back to the work bench. His gear had recently broken down during a simulated training session; The embarrassment that came with shouting out a battle cry and immediately breaking down to your knees in front of your super professional military buddies wasn’t a feeling Lucio would wish upon anybody. Oh, that walk of shame - hauling his busted legs back to his room for repairs while everyone patted his back on the way out. He cringes at the thought. 

When he was able to get a better look, he was almost disappointed to find how minor the error had been.

It’s been a little over a week, and this little problem had yet to find a proper solution. A clasp holding the thigh and calve piece of his left leg together had come apart, disconnecting the cords that moved energy into his skates and leaving him down a leg. The effect was easy to see, but the cause was the bigger mystery. Sure, Lucio was a little hasty in his routine checks, but he was more than sure that he’d be able to spot a loose cap.

The cables had been jerked so hard from their ports that the adapters holding them together practically flew off, and the clamp that kept the joint behind his calf in place had cracked. The back of his knee was a total bust, and going off of what Torböjrn had said to him a couple of days back, they’d need parts that he didn’t already have on hand, which meant full repair would be a lengthy process. The long and short of this was that he’d be off of them for a little while.

For now, the best he could do was tighten up a few of the other bolts in his gear and make sure that the blades of his equipment hadn’t been knocked out of place. They may’ve been sturdy, but without running power they were pretty useless, to put it bluntly. Light, no matter how hard it was, was still light.

“Odd to see you movin’ so slow, Lucio!”

He doesn’t need to turn to see who it is. Lena Oxton.

“Feels just as weird as it looks!” he chuckles back, falling into step beside her. Lena was one of the first friendly faces he’d met on the base. Or, at least in person.. He’d seen plenty of her on the old recruitment posters, and he had to say she was just as beautiful in person. They’d gotten along well, and it was easy to pin her as his closest friend here. “I gotta take it easy if I don’t wanna drop all this, though.” He nods to the box in his arms, and Lena peers at it curiously. Lucio often forgets that she’s taller.

“Who’d you get all those from?”

Lucio readjusts it in his grip. “Who else? Y’know, I’m kinda shocked Torb has modern parts in his inventory. You’d think it’d be nothing but, like, rusty bolts and wrenches, huh?”

“Oh, you don’t give ’im enough credit. He may be a geezer, but he’s a real help when you need it. Why, he’s even got parts for my chronal accelerator! Real shock it gave me to see those the first time around.”

Torbjörn was another member he’d come to be able to bond with rather easily. He wasn’t much at all like his friend Reinhardt; he was a little more lax with things like music and other such topics, and didn’t speak in cryptic proverbs or anything like a wise old man would. He was young at heart, and much more laid back in a casual setting. Lucio found himself often sticking around in places like his workshop or the dining hall, soaking up conversation and swapping jokes with the guy. 

“Yeah, I hear that. He’s the one having some of the stuff I need shipped in, actually. I owe him big.” He may have been stingy about his parts, but he was always willing to help a friend. Lucio was grateful for that.

“Wicked!” Lena laughs.

The rest of the walk to his dorm was comfortable; the two went on about their day, their interests, and shared a few memories on the walk. It was always nice to be able to talk with good company, and a little part of Lucio always got excited by the idea that Lena genuinely wanted to talk to him as well. He may have been her for a while now, but the honor he felt having some one on one time with any member was a feeling that’d always be unique.

It’s when Athena requests that Lena see Winston in his lab that she has to pry herself from their conversation. She gives his shoulder a small shake.

“Right, that’s me - I’ll catch ya around dinner, yeah?” Lena grins.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!”

And like that, she’s gone as soon as she’d shown up. Luckily, it wasn’t too far of a walk from here. Lucio sighs contently, before continuing on to his room.

 

________

 

It’s about a quarter past 5pm when someone knocks on his door. He nearly misses it at first, his radio playing loud enough to cancel out most of the sound around him. 

“It’s open!” he calls out.  
He’s much too focused on taking apart his legs to bother letting whoever it was in. So far, everything was looking alright. Nothing was loose, but just as a precaution he did unscrew and tighten several knobs and screws. The cords that linked up to the energy pads at the hips were all in touch, and none of the others were rusted or in need of replacement. The projectors for his hard light skates were, thankfully, still all in one place.

Focusing more on the impacted area, he’d found that one of the plates on the calf had a crack running down into the ankle - one that could pose a big threat if he turned too hard on it. In his line of work, he needed to be quick, so he was sure to dismantle that section and set it aside. He’d have to take it to Torbjörn to get it melded back together. Later, though.

The door slides open softly - Lucio knew that he hadn’t hit the lock button after entering his passcode - and he spares a moment to close the hologram screen projectors and push the items in his hands to the back of the table.

Twisting in his chair, his concentrated gaze softens immediately.

One Jesse McCree standing in the doorway. “Dinner’s on, kiddo.”

If that wasn’t a relief to hear. Overhaul always did work up an appetite, it seemed.  
Lucio leans back in his seat.

“What’s on the menu?” Lucio smirks, stretching his arms up over his head.

“Lord if I know. You’d think they’d post the specials somewhere, huh? Thinkin’ it might be pasta, considerin’ the day.”

Lucio had grown to hold a certain respect for someone like Jesse. Someone who started from the bottom in life and rose up to where he was now. From a gang to a group of elites, with aspirations to do good by good people and keep the bad at bay. It was pretty inspirational.

While he may have been more mature, he found that Jesse wasn’t foreign to jokes or idle chatter either. He was pretty great at conversation, if he had to be honest. Didn’t beat Torb or Lena, but he was definitely in the top five. He wasn’t around as often as they were, however - he’d said that a man needed his alone time. Maybe there’d be something more than a casual respect if he could get the chance to really talk to the guy.

“Wednesday’s are pasta nights now, huh?” Lucio teases.

“Only food holiday we know is Taco Tuesday, you know that. Everythin’ else is a wild card. Now c’mon out of your man cave and get it ‘fore the big fellas swallow it all up.” Jesse smirks.

That was more than likely referencing Reinhardt or Winston. Lucio chuckles, and turns back to his work. 

“Alright, alright. You go on ahead! I’ll catch up.”

With a nod, Jesse exits the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

Lucio looks back to the heap before him. It’s not that big of a mess, considering how much he’d taken apart. As he slips a pair of loose jeans up over his shorts, he pushes aside what parts he feels might make the place look messy. Or, messier.

The nuts and bolts removed all get piled in one place, as do the projectors he’d used to cast his blueprints. No one worked on stuff like that without something to go off of. Most of his gear is too big to bother putting away if he planned to return right after dinner, so he decides on leaving it out for convenience’s sake.

It’s summer, so most of the running AC's during this time were practically blasting. He’d been so accustomed to the dry heat of Rio and the weak fans they’d used to keep cool, that the power of the cooling system here almost startled him. He guesses that a great air conditioner just came with a great facility. He tugs a sweatshirt on over his head for good measure against the cold.

Stepping out of his room, he realizes that it’s practically empty in his sector. Everyone must’ve already been gathered up and eating. It was odd, however. Normally, he was able to catch up with one of the other guys on the way down, or at least bump into one of the ladies along the way. Making his trip down to the Cafeteria was quiet, but he’d just have to brush it off as him getting out later than usual.

 

As hard as it was not being able to bolt down such elongated halls, there was a part of him that deeply enjoyed the calm pace of the stroll it took to get around. He could take in the smaller details that were lost in the blur of his speed when he jetted down each hall. Small things like dents in the walls, scuffs on lockers, post it notes here and there - stuff that anyone who didn’t take their time wouldn’t generally notice. In a way, it gave him a deeper appreciation to be part of something like this. Something like Overwatch. 

His mood lightened by the thought, he decides to whistle a bit to occupy his journey through the base, bobbing his head and jutting his thumbs into his pockets.

 

________

 

He was going on nine months strong now, equipment fully repaired, putting Lucio ‘back in the saddle’, as Mccree had put it at one point. It was strange to be back in the fast lane, but it didn’t take more than a day to get back into the swing of things. He spent plenty of time catching up with his skates, shredding rails and dancing circles around some of the others, taking Lena’s bet on a race and taking a ride around Gibraltar. 

He was back in business, and made it a point to exercise that as much as possible.

“Don’t’cha ever get tired, speedin’ around the way you do?” Torbjörn sighs, smacking up his welding mask with his left and raising a brow at Lucio. The DJ may or may not have been bragging about his rekindled speed.

“Hey, you can’t beat it ‘til you try it, now.” Lucio shrugs in good nature, sliding over to the workbench the shorter man was stationed at and taking a seat on its surface.

“I can.” Torbjörn huffs, setting his blowtorch down and reaching for his hammer.

“You’re good with building stuff, right? You could totally make a cool pair of skates that shoot fire or somethin’! I can guarantee that in a week tops you’ll be hooked.”

“Afraid I wouldn’t have the time, Lucio,” He strikes at the bright orange metal before him a couple of times, shouting over the booming clanks. “I got orders ta fill! Turrets don’t build themselves, and security bots don’t just show up here y’know!”

“Figured!” Lucio shouts as well, squinting at the way the sound warbled in his ears. He covers the ear receiving the most of the sound, turning his head.

“How many orders you got, exactly!?”

Torbjörn pauses his pounding with a frustrated sigh. He’s been working at the same piece for a while now, unhappy with his inability to properly round the, in Lucio’s opinion, perfectly curved shoulder pad. Reinhardt’s last mission resulted in one of his spaulders being broken in. The guy was gonna be bandaged awhile, but from what he saw of the older man happily moving around the base in a cast, he’d make a full recovery soon enough. 

When Torbjörn worked on his armor, he exceeded the term ‘perfectionist’ - he’d once taken a full week to perfect the curved toes of his armored shoes before. If this was how he was going to be trying to reconstruct a little shoulder pad, Lucio was sure that he wouldn't want to be around for the rage that came with perfecting the spaulder itself.

“Got Reinhardt’s armor to repair here, fer starters. Goin’ about willy nilly, swingin’ that damn hammer ‘round and gettin’ into scuffles like the armor’s impenetrable. You’d think a fella’d be more appreciative of his welder’s work, but no,” Torbjörn’s nose scrunches up with his annoyed expression.

“Rest of ‘em got to do with some of our artillery. Apparently keeping the barrel on a rifle is too much to ask for, here.” He sighs and lowers the lid on his mask, rolling his shoulders and retrieving his blowtorch.

“Got a lot on your plate then, ‘uh?” 

The shorter man shrugs his shoulders. “Comes with the job.”

Lucio knew that feeling, alright. Not on welding specifically, but more on the feeling of having a job. Each role on the team was important, and whether or not you personally liked it, if you were good at it, you were put into it. Lucio, what with the healing capabilities of his music, was their first Audiomedic. He loved music, without a doubt, but it got a little tedious having to script newer, stronger pieces in preparation for missions to come.

“Well, you ever need it feel free to ask for help. I may not be good at playing with lava, but I can be useful for other stuff.”

Torbjörn visibly stiffens at that and flicks his hood up once more.“Playin’ with lava, huh?” 

“You get what I mean.” Lucio retorts.

He lowers the hood again with squinted eyes. “Well, if that’s the case, I could use yer help with somethin’.” Lucio slides off the bench.

The task at hand was moving more of Reinhardt’s armor in from the locker rooms where he’d left them. If he was going to completely remodel a part, he needed to make sure that it sized up with the rest of the beast’s garb.

Lucio, though unsure of how much he could lug at one time, agrees, and gets to work. It was the least he could do after Torbjörn had gotten him new parts. An eye for an eye.  
He could deal with sore arms if it meant repaying the favor.

Gliding along the metal floors with satisfying ease, he gathers up the bag Torbjorn had offered to him to make moving the parts easier. At first he’d thought the bag much too big; Reinhardt was huge, but he didn’t think he’d need this much to move some pieces like boots or those knee pad things.

However, he was promptly proven otherwise when it came to actually facing the monstrous armor. 

He definitely underestimated their girth, and was distraught to find that his metal gloves took up most of the space in the bag.

 

_____

One hour. 

Moving some parts to and from a workshop, and he’d only gotten a quarter of it delivered. In an hour. The trip wasn’t far, but the bag got heavier the more he threw in. The distance from the locker rooms, through the outdoors, and back into the workshop were definitely challenging his strength at this point.

It’s his third trip, and hoping to cut down on time he’d piled a good portion of the armor all into one delivery. The massive chest cavity, stuffed with the boots, the lion crest, and the helmet.  
He’s seeing red with how hard he’s dragging it on the ground.

At one point he gives up entirely, pausing on the road that lead into the innermost parts of the base and flopping against the bag. The tunnel leading in was right there, but his legs felt like they’d give out all over again at this rate.

Slow, was so not his thing.

His own heartbeat throbs in his ears, knees weak and hands quaking. His knuckles were practically white from how hard he’d been pulling, and the rope burn he’d be faced with later was already starting to sting. Favors were pretty difficult.

As he’s resting, however, something catches his eye. At first, he thinks it to be something made out of his own exhaustion. A yellow blur, moving into one of the buildings closest to him. It startles him at first, but he takes a moment to think. It was sundown; Maybe the building caught the orange gold on its surface and he’d caught a glimpse of its newfound shine.  
He brushes it off as the light messing with his eyes.

Until it happens again.

This time it’s much clearer. He just barely catches it as it moves across the bridge. A long, golden streak. This time, Lucio’s on his feet, squinting up at the bridge. Now THAT wasn’t the sun.  
It’s a hard choice, choosing between investigating with no means of self protection or letting an intruder wander around the base when he knew they were there.  
Heck, for all he knew this was just someone messing around with him for lazing around outside. Slowly, he makes for the stairs leading into the building the figure had moved into. He keeps his hands up, in the case that the figure was hostile. 

He moves into the tight building, moving one foot on the step. His footstep echoes.

However, he doesn’t get far before a familiar voice shakes him from his paranoid state.“Thought I’d catch ya out here.”

He turns with a flinch, quickly peeking past the wall.Lena Oxton, arms crossed, sitting on the bag of armor.  
Never has sweet relief ran through him in such a way. “R-Really?”

She smiles, standing and dusting her legs off. “Nah, not really,” she giggles. “I asked around for you. No one's seen you but good old Torbjörn. He said he asked you to bring some junk back to his shop a little while back and hadn’t seen you since your second trip. Sooo, I came out to find you!”

His pace is calm as he glides over to her, only to pause curiously. “What’s up? Needed me for somethin’?” 

She shakes her head. Moving around the sack, she takes hold of the rope he’d been previously pulling.  
“I thought I might come out and help. I know movin’ the big guy’s stuff isn’t easy, so an extra pair of hands oughta help you get this done quicker.” 

He nods, and grabs hold of the opposite end of the bag when she’d asked him to. Lucky for him, Lena was just as big on helping people as he was.

Though the hauling takes a little over an hour to finish up, with the extra help Lucio was able to get everything back to Torbjörn’s workshop before nightfall. He’d thanked him, offered an elbow to his thigh, and promptly dismissed the boy to leave him to his work.

It’s not at all a problem to leave.

Lucio finds himself walking about the Watchpoint with Lena for a little while, occasionally checking behind him or around them. He couldn’t get the incident at the bridge out of his head, as hard as he tried to. He hadn’t seen anything like that around before. Nothing that soundless, either. It had him just a little shaken, much more cautious with his surroundings.

Lena catches onto his paranoia soon enough, raising a brow at him.“You alright there? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost, just about.” 

He returns his attention to Lena after her question, clearing his throat. Should he tell her about what he’d seen? He had no real evidence that he’d really seen anything at all, and it wasn’t like any of Athena’s alarms had gone off at the time he’d seen it. Whatever it was either didn’t exist, or already existed on the base.

Or, was really good at dodging security…

Lucio blows a raspberry in mock disbelief.“Me? A ghost? Naww.” He chuckles, but it’s clear that she’s not buying it. She looks worried, if anything. He knows it’s a narrow minded fear, and it wasn’t necessarily something he’d be scared by for the rest of his life. Sucking it up was the only course of action to take here. He’d be back to himself in no time if he just relaxed.

“Look, if I tell you promise not to call me crazy?” 

She nods.“Course not! What’s got you, Lucio?”

He slowly pushes his hands back into his pockets, rolling his eyes.“Just somethin’ weird I saw earlier. It’s still getting to me, I guess. I can’t tell you what it looked like, cause I hardly saw it for more than a second, but… It was, yellow? Is that weird?”

Lena stays silent for a moment, before snorting, shaking her head.“And here I’d thought it was something horrible! Maybe you were just so tuckered out from the pullin’ that you started seeing things, love.”

He knew it.

“That feeling ought to bugger off soon. The less you think about it, the more you can do, y’know?”  
There was something more comforting about hearing someone confirm his thoughts for him. He nods, and shakes himself out. 

“You know what? You’re so right. Just gotta, shake it off. Get back to work.” The two share a laugh as they make their way back inside. 

 

_____

 

The ocean air licks at the man’s skin with each subtle gust, slithering over his chest and neck, carding through his hair and pulling flirtatiously at the scarf keeping it in place. The wind is faster up here - colder even, but nothing that disrupts the man’s focus. Two individuals, both of which disappeared from sight as they entered the inner works of the Watchpoint. His vantage from the comm tower, much to his disdain, kept him from hearing any important details in their conversation prior to leaving. 

The incident at the bridge was too close for comfort; If he wanted to be successful in getting in, he had to be more careful maneuvering around the base. If he was to properly understand the people here, he’d have to watch his distance, and stay as low profile as possible.  
Narrowing his eyes, he slides a hand thoughtfully over the satellite’s plate. 

It seemed the green one would pose the biggest issue in his plans. He patrols the area with great speed, and travels enough that any points inside of the outer buildings were useless for hiding in. Altitude would be in his favor here.

He clambers back down the side of the tower. He’s gathered enough information for today.


	2. Sherlock Holmes and The Missing Camera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, chapter 1 got a good hit count, so maybe this fic ain't so bad after all? Thanks to everyone who read the intro chapter!!! 
> 
> As promised, chapter two. Enjoy!

“How does a camera just, go down?”

Winston sounds just about as confused as he looks when he joins Lucio at the workbench, observing his meticulous handiwork as he fiddled with a compact camera. It seemed as though nothing was the problem; nothing had been cut or bashed in, and the battery was all in one piece and fully functional. It seemed almost impossible that anything had really damaged it. However, playing back footage from the night prior on Athena’s projector, both individuals were left with a raised brow. It was clear that the feed was either tampered with or completely bugged, but by what? 

In response to Winston’s inquiry, Lucio taps the screen.

“Ever heard of a hacker before?”

“I know the term,” he responds, somewhat breathless as he paced. “But it’s the evidence that doesn’t correlate to the findings. Had the camera feed been overridden, we would’ve seen substantial change in Athena’s security measures. All of the cameras would’ve gone down had this been some kind of cheap hack. But it seems just the two were put out of commission.”

Lucio nods in agreement, disconnecting the camera from its port.

“So… 2 cameras down in one spot, and another one missing. Pretty sketchy stuff.” the DJ huffs out, brows pulled tight.

“What do you think’s got the cameras actin’ up, then?” Lucio asks. Rerouting professional technology was one thing. Playing technical support was another. Lucio rests his chin in his hands as Winston takes the lead on the mystery.

“Well, assuming the memory card is still fully intact and unaltered, perhaps the signals that gave the cameras casting to Athena’s core were disrupted by some external impulse. Something strong enough to knock these off of the air for good.” Winston itches anxiously at his chest. 

It’s still strange to see him in casual clothes over his usual bulking equipment. A T-shirt with the organization’s logo and some sweats that stopped just above his ankle. Athena pipes up in response to his rising nerves.

“I’ll get it under control in just a moment,” the scientist responds in a breath, plopping down beside the desk.   
“For now, turn off the monitors to my vitals and turn to the other cameras. Do any of them show signs of what could’ve happened?”

It doesn’t take her very long to turn up negative.

“Any and all information vital to your search resides in the camera that was stolen.”

“Can you extract what was in that one?” Winston asks. He’s getting more and more worked up by the second.

“I seem to no longer have connection with camera E10.”

“How does - !?”

“Hey, we’ll work it out, aight? “ Lucio chimes in after his fair share of observing. “Can’t be that tough of a scavenger hunt, right? You guys just get those cameras up and runnin’, and I’ll look for E10.” 

E10. What did that even stand for?

Winston seems to relax under the confident words of the other. Sitting up, he slides the camera over to his end, nodding.

“Right. I’m going to guess that the camera wouldn’t be anywhere close to where it should be stationed, so that’s probably the last place you’d want to look. If we can get these things back online, we’ll call you in.”

“Nice, a man with a plan!” Lucio gives Winston’s shoulder a shake, earning a sheepish grin and a very strong elbow to the hip in reply. For the sake of being polite, he holds off on expressing pain from it.

“I’ll check you guys later!” The DJ puffs out, before booking it out of the room.

 

______

 

Torbjörn didn’t have much to say on the matter when Lucio had approached him. He didn’t fiddle with security, and his only addition to it was his turrets stationed further off than the cameras. Lucio was very tempted to make multiple height jokes in excuse to why he never managed the cameras. 

“Athena usually handles her own business,” the shorter man had said, rolling his eye and popping open a beer. Apparently, it was never too early to have a drink. “When somethin’s gone amiss with her technology, she has it fixed in no time. Me? I go out there and keep those turrets up and runnin’ manually.” 

“They ever go down this long before?” Lucio had asked.

“Sort of, but she had them back up after an hour. You say they’ve been down since last night up ‘til now?”

He’d nodded.

“There’s not much I can do to help here. That’s just not my department.”

He’d left Torbjörn to his drink.

 

____

 

“Don’t know of one man who’s died eatin’ a sloppy joe,” Mccree says sternly, setting his monstrosity of a meal down in order to wipe at his mouth. It was his turn to cook for the crew, and today was something pretty messy.

Lucio didn’t hesitate to have one for himself, but most at the table he sat at today did. 

Winston seemed to be the only exception, as his diet only really allowed for fruits, grains, veggies, and peanut butter. He decided 3 apples and 2 jars of peanut butter were an acceptable lunch.

Reinhardt decided to be polite and at least have one on his plate, but stuck to his beer and his salad most throughout their conversation.

The only new addition this time around seemed to be a woman he hadn’t really thought of talking to before. Her name was Mei (He’d accidentally pronounced her name ‘me’ the first few times around. Thankfully, she wasn’t as cold as she always seemed to feel hauling around a massive coat. She was sweet, and always politely corrected his pronunciation), and she opted to make a mini fruit salad on her plate. Bananas, apples, grapes, and blueberries. She’d shown up late to the table after the water in her bathroom had stopped running.

Lucio didn’t fail to catch all the staring Mccree did when she showed up.

“Everything in it ain’t anything you haven’t eaten before, you wussies.” He huffs finally, briefly tipping his hat to Mei.   
“Mind the lady.”

“I’m just not a very big fan of beef,” she admits with a nervous smile, shrugging up her shoulders. Her rounded features really did give her the sweetest appearance.  
“But, if I were, I would definitely try them!” Lucio deems this as a very soft lie, and decides to dig into his own. It’s not fantastic on flavor, and definitely didn’t feel very good in his mouth, but it was warm and decent enough to keep down. He forces it on its way with a gulp of water.

“How’s it?” Mccree asks.

It takes a lot for Lucio to smile and give the man a hearty thumbs up. Thankfully, it’s enough to win the cowboy’s relief.

The white noise of distant chit chat and the clinking glasses and plates is comforting for Lucio. It reminds him of home, being in a small dining room packed with brothers, sisters, and cousins alike. The Overwatch team often acted as a sort of family. It was tough exceeding expectations in training, but getting acquainted with the team personally was the easiest part of it all.   
Lucio smirks as he just barely tunes in to the conversation at his own table, tapping his fork into a cherry tomato and popping it into his mouth. He’d kill for some music to add onto the experience right now.

Winston speaks up eventually, and Lucio’s attention is drawn back.

“...the location of camera E10. It’s strange, nothing like that happens unless repairs or replacements need to be made. Me and Lucio have been trying to locate its whereabouts all morning. Speaking of...” Winston looks over to the DJ from his spot at the table, nodding his head.  
“Have you made any progress finding it?”

Lucio cocks his head to the side and shrugs, setting down his fork. 

“Nothing’s turned up so far. It’s nowhere inside, as far as I’ve seen. Whoever took it down doesn’t have it stashed anywhere inside.”

Winston visibly deflates, sighing just a bit into an apple slice.  
Mei’s brows raise and her body straightens as though she’s prepared to speak, but Mccree seems to steal the question right out of her mouth.

“How’d we lose a camera?”

“That’s what we’ve been askin’ all morning.” Lucio shrugs, propping an elbow up on the table and leaning his cheek into it. 

“Have you considered a replacement?” Reinhardt finally decides to add, leaning back into the seat he was squeezed into. He looked like an 8th grader sitting at a Kindergartener’s table, arms crossed high above the table’s ledge, inquisitively picking at his own teeth with his fork.  
“Surely you’re better off saving yourself the strain of locating it and temporarily putting another in its place?”

Mccree nods in agreement, his hat bobbing like a boat on a lake. Lucio knows that that would probably be the quickest way to solve a simple problem, but he knew from his year being here that it wasn’t everyday a camera went missing. Whoever took it had access to their base, and had something strong enough to cancel 3 cameras at the same time. The best bet here was finding the camera, playing it back, and seeing who or what had taken it.

“Is E10 your only concern at the moment?” Mei asks carefully, looking over at her fellow scientist.

Said scientist raises his head, itching behind his ear and popping the apple slice into his mouth.

“It’s not my only concern, but it happens to be taking priority. Why?”

“You said that the cameras nearby were offline?”

“Yes?” 

“Well, yesterday I did see something that looked like it could’ve caused it.”

Everyone at the table was quick to lean in.

Mei seemed to understand that she’d stuck her own spoon into the pot. Taking a short breath, she explained her walk to the lockers after having left her journal there. On her way, she’d been startled by a sparking object in the wall that caught her eye. It wasn’t very high up, but it was out of her reach. With a glove and a stack of boxes, she’d pried it out of the wall and kept it in a plastic bag to confront Winston with later. It continued to spark, but it wasn’t anything that would burn through as far as she was concerned. She’d described it as some sort of magnet; a little plug with lights, more than likely where it’d been sparking from. It was attached to the outside of the building by two of the cameras. Winston and Lucio exchange questionable glances, before returning their attention to Mei.

“It may not reveal a lot right now,” she concludes sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.  
“But, I think it may be some kind of beacon. Maybe.”

Winston is stiff, it’s easy for anyone at that table to see. Mccree offers to ease the tension, swallowing down the last bite of his ‘joe and wiping his mouth with the back of a hand.

“Let’s not jump the gun here,” he props both elbows on the table, fingertips plastered to the rim of his cup.  
“You could give a man a heart attack with that kinda conclusion. Whatever it is, it ain’t somethin’ that Winston can’t backtrack.” He pats Winston’s shoulder roughly, and the mammal responds with a light shove.   
Lucio almost feels insulted that his ‘nudge’ was more violent than the one Mccree got.  
“You happen to have it on you?”

Mei shakes her head and pushes her glasses up.

“Not right now. I left it in my locker, just in case. I think it may be damaged enough to work with.”  
She pauses a moment.  
“And i’m not ‘jumping the gun’. I’m considering possibilities of its purpose. I found it by the cameras, and it was probably no accident to have wound up there. It stuck very well to the building’s surface, so whatever it was was meant to latch onto things. I’m just using my evidence to make a guess.” She gently taps her fork into three grapes, and takes a bite.

“Well whatever it is, you think you’d wanna help us in figuring that part out?” Lucio smiles, raising his brows. 

“Oh! Well, if you need my help, i’d love to!” She really is the nicest lady on this base. 

Reinhardt had long since abandoned the idea of touching the messy burger on his plate, instead standing and stretching his arms above his head.   
“Well, i’m off for seconds. Would anybody like me to bring a pitcher back?”

“Hey now, you haven’t even touched that there joe. What happened?” Mccree immediately spots it as it’s raised from the table, pinching his brows tight.

“Nothing, my friend! I’m sure it is very tasty.” He starts off slow for the kitchen, his boots coming down in heavy thumps on the metal flooring.  
“But, allow me to be the first to say that there may be plenty of leftovers.”

It’s a joke that earns a small puff of a laugh from the table. Even Mccree can’t help but grin.

“I see you, Wilhelm. Don’t worry about how much you serve yourself, now! That mouth’s a whole lot bigger’n you think.”

 

______

 

Winston’s lab wasn’t nearly as messy as most would think it’d be. Sure, a few things were left lying around, but it was done up in a way that gave Lucio that “professionally unorganized” feel about the room, as though Winston actually did intense work in here. In comparison to his own room, Lucio honestly came close to asking for tips on keeping a decent living space. Decent enough for others to come in without feeling crowded or tripping on parts, that is. Lord knew how much of a mess could develop in there if it wasn’t dealt with in time. He can recall a time he’d lost a plate in a mountain of discarded shirts, socks, and glasses after ignoring the warning from Mccree to clean up after himself.

Slumped over one of Winston’s desks, the sound of the slider door opening shook him from his thoughts. Mei (not ‘me’) was making her way in with a plastic bag in her hands. She’d taken up the offer with little to no hesitation, and promised to return with the alleged ‘beacon’. Lucio had expected some complex looking magnet, with tiny buttons and wires, something they could use to get better intel on what exactly it was meant for. What Mei places on the counter is much simpler than what he’d expected to see.

It almost looked like a bell, small enough to fit in your palm. It also looked like it was missing a part, the hole on top indicating that something had been taken out of it.  
A single teal ring hugged the base of the little bell, currently sparking and flashing. Whatever was wrong with it must’ve been caused by whatever was removed from the top.

“Like I said,” Mei hums, crossing her arms and resting a hip against the counter ledge. “I’m not sure what it may be, but I am sure that it gives me a really bad feeling.”

She had every right to be worried. Even Lucio found himself growing gradually solemn the longer he looked at it. It was so simple in appearance, but who could’ve known what it was really for? Something was fishy about its appearance, and its origin brought further questioning. 

Lucio grabs his chin, squeezing at the hair there.

“Well, it doesn’t seem to be doing much right now. Athena, can you run this?”

She can, and she does.

“I cannot track a specific origin, but it relates closely to a form of SONAR used by a former group stationed in Japan.” 

“SONAR?” Lucio cuts in, raising a hand up to the many screens on the balcony above, as though she could see his polite intrusion from up there.   
“So like, we talkin’ echo location or satellite stuff here?” Sonic technology. Right up his alley.

“The SONAR used by this group was active.”

Active. Lucio didn’t doubt that with technology as it was today, that type could be used above water just as well as it could below it.

“So whoever was using this cared more about finding us than us finding them?”

 

“I can’t provide that kind of information. But it’s a possibility.” she hums back monotonously. 

“Maybe the signals it gave off were strong enough to interrupt Athena’s access to those cameras that were shut off? I don’t doubt that something like this would be strong enough to ruin a security camera.” Mei adds, a question that definitely prompts some serious thinking.

Winston, seemingly moved by the question, raises his chin to the balcony above.  
“Athena, what’s this group you’re referring to? How strong is the correlation between this device and the ones they used?”

Lucio watches as he climbs his way up to her monitors, sitting up on the counter and crossing his arms. He can’t really think of a time where he’s been involved in a super in depth investigation. Ones that came down to details this small, at least. In a way, it makes his nerves buzz with anticipation. The thrill of the chase, almost. Piecing things together to get to the big reveal. It was exciting in a way.

It’s quiet for a short while as Winston and Athena work on picking apart this gang’s weapon roster. Lucio can’t make out much, but from what he can catch Athena thinks it’s something long range; used from either very far away or very far up, based on it’s position from the camera.

“Do you think it is remote controlled?” Mei mumbles casually over, Lucio turning quick to catch her words.

“I don’t really know. You’d think remote controlled stuff would have more wires and stuff, right? So far this thing’s lookin’ pretty flat.” Lucio takes a moment to look it over. Curiosity getting the best of him, he reaches over and gingerly plucks it up by the rounded top, getting better view of its exterior.  
“If it is remote controlled, no way is it working on this thing now.” A spark strikes too close for comfort, and he sets it back onto the counter. 

The difference that was really aggravating Lucio was how similar in quality both this device and Vishkar tech happened to be. Sonic instruments were basically his calling, so discovering what they had to offer and ways to counter it to his advantage were simple. The only problem was the huge difference in mechanism. Vishkar technology was used to keep his people in order, and by all means prevent an uprising or backlash through controlled frequencies. From there, it was simple to reverse its effects and overthrow their own offense. This thing… It had one purpose only, and was already busted. Something deep down tells Lucio that the outcome would’ve been the same if it did come back in one piece; there was nothing else to do with it. Not without ruining more of Athena’s sensors, that was.

“I think we may have a lead here.” Winston shouts down after a tense waiting period, leaping from the railing and catching the massive tire suspended from the ceiling close by. Lucio rises from his seat on the table, moving over to where Winston lands with a thud that he can feel from his skates to his chest.  
Winston has a screen in front of his left hand, enlarging it as Mei joins Lucio’s side.

The screen projects what Lucio assumes to be some kind of rod, with a tip similar to the piece they had on the desk. It was flatter, and looked more like a refrigerator magnet than anything.   
It held blueprints on its purpose, materials needed, and assembly.   
Lucio takes a minute to look this over. Most of the instructions were in Japanese, save for any number values that came up. His brows pinch in thought.

“So like, this thing we have is a more advanced version of that one?” Winston nods at his question.

“It seems to be some type of projectile. It doesn’t specify how it’s used, but going off of the fletching along the shaft, i’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that this is a type of arrow.”  
Winston sets aside the screen in favor of keeping eye contact.

“So, whoever it is we’re dealing with here has arrows?” Mei asks, her face twisting with thought.

As the two discuss the possible archer in the room, Lucio decides to visit their evidence one more time.

The piece missing at the top must’ve been the shaft, then. What they had was the tip of it. Whoever it was must’ve broken it off on accident, and broke the arrowhead in order to keep them off their tracks. Lucio stares long and hard at its bell shape, its flickering light, and the occasional spark from the crack that crossed over the teal stripe.   
An archer was on the loose on Gibraltar, apparently. 

 

As promised, Mei did play a huge part in helping them out. She’d stuck around the lab a little after 10pm in order to help them delve into research on its origins, bringing in detailed notes on this gang and a few of its public members, as well as confidential tactics and artillery. Not a whole lot was left to record, but what she did find was suitable evidence for them.   
Enough to give them an idea of where they’d need to start, at least.

She’d disappeared after that, retreating to her quarters to catch up on some shut eye. Lucio likes to think that she felt like her old self again, being able to delve into a database and take notes from the raw material provided; be able to set up a plan and connect the dots. It gave Lucio a warm feeling.

“Today’s been one wild ride,” Winston sighs.

He joins Lucio at the work table, opting to take a seat beside him on the floor and lean his head back into the ledge.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve had to do something like this.”

“Kinda feels good,” Lucio yawns, crossing his arms behind his head. “Playing detective and all. I feel like we’ve got this case all under control, Watson.” 

Winston snorts. “Have you even read any of the Sherlock Holmes novels?” 

“Nope! But I hear about him lots here. Apparently he’s a pretty big deal.” Lucio grins over to the larger mammal playfully. 

“When you get the chance, you just have to read one. It’s a great series.”

Lucio shakes his head and chuckles, bringing a knee up to his chest. Lazily, he drops his cheek onto the smooth exterior of his gear.

“Maybe, man. Maybe. Right now we got bigger fish to fry.” He turns to Winston. “What else’d you get on that stuff?”

The discussion drags on for what feels like hours, Winston going on about connections he was able to make with what they had. Whoever it was that was doing this had access on and off of their base, and was more than likely delivering what information they could as they did so. It delves into deeper matters, concerning the safety and security of each of the members that has Lucio sitting upright.  
Winston poses a question, after that. One that makes the hair on the brazilian's neck stand on edge.

“So, you’re sayin’ we keep this lowkey?”

Winston nods solemnly. He’s seriously considering this. “Just until we can get a better grasp of who or what we’re dealing with.”

Lucio opens his mouth to protest, but Winston continues.

“I know it sounds bad; unethical, even. But telling them now with the little evidence we have could ruin their sense of safety. It would keep them all on edge. No one would be able to focus on their training or debriefing. The rest are out of our reach, and occupied with their own missions. Stirring up a catastrophe before we know that it’s harmful to us would break what foundation we’ve created up until now. I just need more time to see this out. Until something big happens, it’s best that this stays as a little mystery over anything serious.”

“For all we know, it might not be a foreign body at all.” Winston continues, hopelessly grasping for straws that would ease his nerves. “Given its simplicity, it might just be a missing part, or in an even more ridiculous scenario, some lost fridge magnet.” Lucio isn’t sure if that last part is meant to be sarcasm or not.   
“All i’m asking of you is to reassure the team that it’s just some broken artifact; completely harmless for now.”

Would ignorance be the best route here for how big of a deal this was? Their team wasn’t dumb; they were sure to e suspicious and form their own ideas of what the threat of such a thing could be. Someone had one of their cameras. Someone had a device that could let them know where they were. Someone had access to their little home away from home. This wasn’t some ‘little mystery’, but Lucio knows that hyping everyone up for an intruder wouldn’t do anyone any good, either.

A cold shiver rides his spine all the way back to his room.

 

______

 

His mother really didn’t understand the importance of confidentiality in the military much. She’d asked about what he did there, what his job was, what his friends were up to, all of that stuff. Sadly, Athena never slept, so any and every message he sent and typed was monitored as he went along. The most he could give her was that he was eating and drinking fine, his friends were okay, and he would visit her and the family as soon as he got the chance to. 

He glances at the clock on his nightstand, the weight of the day starting to catch up to him. 12:46 pm.

Wrapping his letter up with a quick ‘Escreva de volta em breve!’, he gets settled into bed. There was no doubt that a reply would come sometime tomorrow afternoon.


	3. Lúcio's Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you guys so much for reading TDJGJ! Your comments and kudos always make my day!

It’s a cold, rainy day at Gibraltar. The sunshiney feel of the island was replaced by the black and white filter of Mother Nature’s choosing, winds pushing the tide roughly against the rocky slopes. Overwatch’s flag, normally up high and flowing free, is brought down to keep it from being taken away with the storm. Initially, Lucio wasn’t aware of the storm brewing outside. Tucked deep into the rocks of the watchpoint, any outside noise was cancelled by the steel doors. He was on his way to investigate the cameras when the water swarmed at his feet in a wave of ice. Maybe today wasn’t the day to be wandering around with slippers on. 

It was odd seeing rain during this time of year. In Rio, there wasn’t rain until around December, and it never made the place so cold. He hugs his arm as he closes the door, hand sliding down the touch pad with an elongated squeak. They’d been looking for this one camera for a little over a week now, and so far the odds of it turning up soon were growing slim. At this rate it would be a wild goose chase for a camera that was probably long gone. Part of Lucio almost wants to call it quits on their ‘mission’ and debate on how little spy work you could do with a camera that wasn’t close to the base. 

It’s only then that Lucio realizes something.

Maybe the camera wasn’t posted somewhere looking at the outside, but somewhere on the inside. That would mean that someone was able to get in and out undetected. It’s a possibility, but the biggest stretch of one. Lucio looks up to the seal around the door. ‘Air-tight’, Lena had once told him. Lucio’s hand falls from the touch pad and swings to a halt at his hip. For once, he didn’t really want to look for more explanations than the one he was given. Maybe Winston was right; sometimes Ignorance was bliss.

Lucio turns and takes a step away from the door.

The squelch of a soggy sandal reminds him that he’d probably have to clean that up once he had a clean pair of shoes on.

 

_______

 

“Was that really so confusing?” Lena laughs. Lucio’s never felt dumber in his life.  
E10. East wing, camera 10.  
Not some cryptic mnemonic for the company it belonged to, or some code name put in place by Athena or Winston. It was set up on the East wing of the watchpoint, and just so happened to be the tenth camera from the shipment.

“Hey, don’t hate! When you’re in the heat of a mystery case the last thing you think of is what that little stuff means.”

So maybe he’d been a little loose with Winston’s suggestion to keep quiet. Technically, he’d instructed Lucio to play it off as a harmless little discovery, not to act as though it didn’t exist. The day after that night he’d pulled Lena aside and filled her in on a good portion of their research.  
It wasn’t like he could keep something like that a secret from Lena, either. She may have been quirky and upbeat, but she was never a canary as far as Lucio knew. She’d kept her promise and never referred to their little problem to the rest of the group, nor did she go around and act suspicious of their members for it. Playing it cool as always.

“Y’know, i’d’ve thought that’d be the first thing you think of.” he knows she’s right, but at this point any grab was a good one to cover for his obliviousness. 

They hold this conversation while the rest of the group gets their stretches in before training, purposefully stalling for time as they got strapped up and ready to go. If any of the other group members had overheard, he was sure there would be never ending questions on the topic. He, for one, knew that if anyone else knew, with time it’d get back to Winston. He was hoping not to crush his friendship with the smartest mammal he knew. 

As the two got ready, Lucio decides to ask about the focus of their course for the day. It was a wonder how Winston was able to transform the more abandoned parts of the base into outlets of training for the team. Lena slips into her chronal accelerator as she discusses the layout. From what she knew, it was another trial on the team’s aim and punctuality. They’d have to get back into the swing of sticking to a plan and being as diligent as possible. For some reason, that instills a sense of dread in Lucio. He hasn’t been outside of the practice range with his Amplifier, and his music was only crafted in preparation for the real deal. Something about that aspect of his role was pretty nerve wracking. There was no way of practicing being the support, other than being assigned specific teammates to guard and rehearsing their routes. Lucio fastens his right skate numbly, nodding along as Lena went on.

“Everyone is waiting for you two out there.” comes a voice that calls for both of their attention. 

It’s almost rare to catch Genji anywhere inside the base. He’d voiced before that he wasn’t keen on staying holed up in a cave all day, and much preferred to explore the cliffs of the Watchpoint or meditate in solitude. No one knew where he went when he meditated, but he insisted that the only way to achieve peace of mind would be through complete silence. Maybe the rain is what’s brought him in today. Thankfully the indoor practice range was just as useful as the one outside. 

If just his appearance was a rare occurrence, catching him in any sort of clothing was an even greater marvel. Some sort of orange and black jumpsuit with the organization’s logo, and that long tie he usually had on was twisted into a bun on the back of his head. Clothes on a generally naked robot man was almost bizarre. 

Regardless, Genji was one of the members that Lucio longed for a greater friendship with. Like Mccree, he preferred his personal space, and opted to turn up in the base for basic meetings and checkups with Angela, putting moments to get to know him few and far between. 

“Yeah! Sorry for the hold up. My gear’s actin’ up.” Lucio calls, quickly pulling himself together. A mechanical chuckle follows his excuse.

“I’m sure it is. Hopefully that will not pose a problem for you today.” 

And it doesn’t, much to Lucio’s relief. Throughout the course of the training, however, it’s clear that Lucio’s sonic weapon wasn’t very concentrated when it came to aiming. Blobs of sound round enough to pack a punch, beats too fat to make the mark. It was clear that he’d either have to work up close and personal, or stick to everyone’s back and stay covered by one of their tanks at all times.

Reinhardt claps his colossal palm over the back of Lucio’s shoulder at the news. Apparently he’s seen this before to know all too well what it meant.

“Angela was just as shaky with her aim the first couple of months. But do not worry, my friend! With enough practice, i’m sure that it will straighten out!” Reinhardt declares with enough confidence to fill a room. It gives Lucio a little more hope in himself. Maybe there was a way he could tweak the speakers in order to condense the pulses into sharper beats. Then again, sculpting sound wasn’t always as easy as it, well, sounded.

Even then, he had plenty of years of capoeira under his belt. Surely shooting things wasn’t all he was obligated to do. If any enemies were to sneak up on him, he’d be able to ward them off with an armada dupla. No problemo. Blowing a sigh, he nods back to Reinhardt’s words. Concentration paid off, and if a spinning double kick was possible, so was landing a shot on the mark.  
Reinhardt seems to notice the spirit in him rouse, stepping back with a parting pat on the back, just as powerful as the first. Lucio was honestly surprised that he wasn’t littered with bruises from those harsh pats.

 

_______

 

He can’t quite recall a night in his life that gave way to such downpour for more than a few hours. The night sky smudged with foggy clouds, the moon casting its ghostly silhouette past the darkness that hid it, the wind slow and heavy, pushing and pulling the surrounding tide in lazy strides. The rain, just as unforgiving as the dark, beat into the ocean and towers around him in harsh smacks of sound. The weather is malevolent, but hides him well, masking his footsteps under echoes of rolling thunder as he moved for cover against the brutal rain just inside the base of a comm tower. 

While the weather is oddly powerful, unfavorable conditions aren’t a new thing. He’s traveled in worse before, but tonight holds a foreboding mood. He can feel it in the way the air sticks to his skin, in the way the rain greases his hair, in the way the ocean moves. The calm before the storm, in a sense. 

He doesn’t miss the sound of feet behind him. Just barely out of sync with the rain. This familiar force avoids such downpour for a reason. Crossing his arms into his soaked sleeves, he sighs. 

“Have you come to lecture me again?” he drones out into the night in front of him. He doesn’t bother to turn and look at who stands behind him. He knows all too well at this point.

The body behind him completes its route to his side - his left - and settles, replicating his own stance and crossing his arms, as though the chill of the night shook his very core. He knows, however, that that was physically impossible. Temperatures outside of his own body were unreadable, from what he could understand. Conditions such as rain and hail we're understandable, but nothing beyond that could affect how his body reacted. Maybe that was what unsettled him most of all. Pretending he was human. 

“I don’t intend for these meetings to be considered scholarly.” Genji’s visor hums with his voice. “You can’t hope for this to work without a proper course of action.”

The elder scoffs.

“There’s no shame in what you wish to do, nor is there any judgement on my end. What you seek is well intended-”

“I understand what it is I do, why I do it, and the consequence of doing so.” he cuts in, unfolding his arms and lowering his gaze to the metal floor below him.  
“Your approval is not what I wish to gain from all of this, and it will not be for the duration of the time that I am here.”

“So you do plan to join?”

No answer.

“Regardless of my inclusion in your journey,” the younger continues, looking over to the man beside him. “I can assure you that it is one worth taking. There are many understanding people here. People with abstruse pasts who strive for a better future; a purpose beyond what they’d ever thought achievable by themselves.” 

He knows it’s meant to inspire him; comfort him, even. But if anything, it instills a sense of subtle unease. This place wasn’t where he truly belonged. Not after what he’d done. 

A cool hand comes to rest over his shoulder, it's sleek digits curving over his bicep in an unnaturally smooth motion. He doesn’t shake the hand off, nor does he leer away from its touch. His brows pinch tightly into the bridge of his nose, and he shuts his eyes. The rain scatters his train of thought, questions and concerns flying every which way as the two stood in near silence. This plan was foolish. Becoming part of a renowned justice league to heal his own inner demons? It was outlandish. A shot in the dark. His fists clench, and he can feel his teeth grating against one another with his annoyance. His temper would ruin him here, if not his reputation.

Genji seems to sense his inner turmoil, offering his shoulder a slight squeeze before slowly letting his hand fall away. It was the most contact he could get out of him lately, and he would not abuse that. He takes a deep breath.

“I will allow you further thought on this tonight, brother. But the time to make your choice approaches sooner than you’d like to think.” Genji turns and moves away; most likely back in the way he came out. Hanzo doesn’t watch as he makes his exit.  
“They’re beginning to catch onto you.” 

Not a footstep is registered in Hanzo’s mind as the other departs. Perhaps it’s his inability to properly focus on the world around him, or that Genji had been obvious in approaching for a reason. His mind is muddled and tense, throbbing at the front of his cranium. Joining would mean that he would be committed to a group for a long while with plenty of support to heal age old wounds and regain what honor he’d lost over time, but in the case that something went wrong he would never be able to fully recover from the shame that would follow their failure. Rejecting the offer would mean that his actions wouldn’t depend on anyone around him, but his demons would rise to claim his deteriorating soul. Overridden by guilt, he would be forced to retreat into the hollow shell of the man he once was and flee. 

Perhaps a bit of rest would do him some good. Turning from the sight before him, Hanzo releases a deep sigh and rubs the bridge of his nose slowly. He treads carefully over the bridge in front of him, indifferent to the sharp rain that beat into his bared skin for the sake of getting somewhere more remote.

His footsteps, however, do not go unheard. Neither does the conversation.

 

_______

 

Something about Mccree’s cooking never really left a pleasant taste in his mouth. Maybe it was the charred toast, or the meaty bacon. Maybe the under cooked eggs? Probably the coffee. Definitely the coffee. Black with hardly any cream in sight, a splash of milk and half a tablespoon of sugar. He’d said it was how the real Overwatch crew used to drink it to stay on their toes, but a quick look around the room could’ve told anyone otherwise. 

His better judgement would’ve told him to avoid breakfast all together and rely on a bagel or a quick apple to keep him energized until noon, but after prior discoveries not a whole lot was really working right in his mind. 

A brother. Genji had a brother.

It still boggles his mind, even now as he practically burns two holes into the plate sat before him. He’d decided to take a day away from his usual table, slouched in the corner with a fork in his right hand and his cheek in his left. It couldn’t have been possible, right? Genji was a good guy. He wouldn’t keep something like that a secret, would he?

Was this guy ever on the base? Lucio may have been here for just a month shy of a year, and he hadn’t seen anyone that Genji referred to as his brother. Maybe he worked up in the old fuel storage area above the base. No one was really allowed to go up there after Winston voiced his concerns about the fragility of the base’s activation panels. Maybe this brother was trusted to work up there, or with that stuff to keep it stable?

It’s something he considers asking when Lena joins him at his table.

A full tray; coffee, toast, eggs and a peach cup, a bundle of napkins settled by her meal. She offers her sweetest smile, and it’s enough to bring Lucio out of his thinking.

“How can you drink that?” he asks, folding his arms in front of him. She checks that the coast is clear before taking her seat in front of Lucio.

“I smuggled a couple creamers while Mccree was servin’ everyone. Love him to bits, I do. But sometimes, his taste is a little…” she looks around for the word. 

“Bad?” Lucio hates to be blunt. Mccree was a great person, and everyone knew it, but his culinary skill was, to put it simply, bad.

She seems to give in, snorting softly. “Yeah, bad. Don’t tell ‘im about it, though. I’d hate to break his heart like that.”

Lucio nods and pulls his own coffee close. Still disgusting. Lena peels back the stack of napkins to reveal a few sugar packs and five creamers. 

“Thought you might need some as well.”

He’s never been so thankful for someone in his life. She knew lots about him, and he always appreciated just how often she indulged in his interests. He nabs them sneakily as she slides them over, both bearing sly smirks during the little exchange. He preferred his coffee on the sweeter side; it made it easier to keep down, and gave him a good rush for a good part of the morning. It wasn’t something he drank often, however. Sometimes the best way to stay awake in the morning was through a tall glass of water.

“So, now that you’re situated,” she starts, hunching over the table more. Her playful expression drops into something a little more solemn; she was concerned.  
“What’s gotcha sitting all alone? You’re not the one to alienate yourself without a reason, love.” 

He knew it had to come eventually. He didn’t exactly try to hide his dismay, to be fair. She had all the reason to believe something was wrong, and something was wrong. How wrong, he wasn’t sure, but it put a bad taste in his mouth. This time, it wasn’t the coffee.

He thinks back to last night, looking down at his stale eggs with tight brows. A man, a voice he’d never heard before. Genji’s brother. He’d caught parts of their conversation, past all that rain and wind, but things weren’t adding up in his mind. There was no way his relatives would be unknown, so how come he didn’t know until now? Lucio had an enormous family, composed of blood relatives, distant relatives, friends, neighbors; in a way, his entire community back in Rio was his family. He’d shared about them often, showing pictures and telling stories, even calling them with Lena on one occasion. He knew Genji was there for part of those recounts, so how come he’d never spoken up about a family member, his BROTHER no less? He even had him on the base now, and Lucio had never once heard of him up until now. It just, wasn’t right. Something shifty was happening here.

Lucio looks up to Lena, whose eyes pierce that veil of uncertainty. She was a friend. Family. He could trust her with this.

He licks his lips, scooting his chair in closer to the table.

“So here’s the story; I was out late last night cause Torb had left a few parts in the lockers, right? And this guy was in the middle of his own thing, so I swing by, offer to help out, and get booted to the rain so I can haul it in before it really starts comin’ down. Well get this; I wasn’t the only one outside.”

Lena’s brows raise. Lucio leans in close enough to scoot his tray forward.

“Genji was out there. Him and his, brother?”

That strikes a nerve. Her eyes widen and she leans back, mouthing a soft ‘no way’ before raising her hand to her mouth. If anything pointed to a bad sign, that reaction from the happiest person he knew definitely did. He looks frightened by her own astonishment, and she casts her gaze aside. 

“What? Lena, what’s that face about?”

She shakes her head, carding her hand through her hair.

“No one...No one expected him to carry through with it.”

Carry through with what?

He moves to ask, but his words are muted by a heavy pair of fists shifting across the floor.  
Winston approaches with an excitement Lucio hadn’t really seen from him in a while. He’s all smiles as he stops at the side of the table.

“Lucio! Just who I needed to see,” he begins, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.  
“Follow me; you’re going to love this!” Lucio nods, quickly standing from his seat. As Winston takes the lead, Lucio turns back to Lena.

“Between us, okay?” 

She nods. “Between us.”

It’s his turn to nod. He pats her shoulder, and quickly takes off to catch up to the fast paced mammal. He knew that Lena was true to her word.

When they get around to more desolate areas, he pops the question.

“So! What’s goin’ on Winston?” he wants to say something along the lines of ‘long time no talk’, but he knew well enough that they’d both been occupied in their own business.  
As they approach his lab, he practically leaps at the keypad there, hurriedly punching in the code with his index. When the doors open, he tugs Lucio in, hurriedly shutting the doors and leading him to the screens set up below Athena’s core. He motions to them, grinning wide.  
“This, is what’s going on.”

It’s hard to understand at first. The screen doesn’t show anything but a time stamp and some static layered over what looked to be a hallway. Nestled behind a black figure.  
Then it hits him.  
E10. Alive and well.  
His grin comes naturally as he steps closer, huffing out a laugh.

“No way.” 

“Yes, way.” Winston replies, joining Lucio in his ogling. Their camera was online and in their possession. But where? There’s silence for a little while, before Lucio pipes up.

“So where’s this bad boy hiding at?” he looks over to Winston, who shrugs his shoulders.

“That’s what I want to find out. Athena was able to regain connection with it, and as soon as she did I came to get you.”

“Now that you two are here,” Athena hums, closing the black screen and opening a layout of the Watchpoint.  
“E10 has been registered in my system as active in the North wing.” the area mentioned is circled in a golden ring, standing out on the blue background of her map. Lucio’s brows raise. That’s awful close to the hall leading to the meeting room. 

“And what about those other two we were havin’ problems with?” 

Athena displays two more screens.

“Active in the East wing.” Lucio takes a deep breath, but his relief is quickly postponed. “However, all prior footage has been obscured. I am unable to fully recall any documentation before 2 AM this morning.” 

“There’s no doubt that that arrow head did a number on them,” Winston muses softly, squinting his eyes.  
“What about on E10? Does it still have anything we can use?”

“Just about as much as the other two, Winston.” 

“So, we have our cameras back, but nothing else? Nada? Zip?” Lucio asks, almost vexed by the empty accomplishment. 

“I’m afraid so.”

He wants to be upset. He really does. Almost half a month of working this situation up, just for any hope of finding the culprit to be gone with the wind. He wants to be mad, but there’s still some hope to the finding. Someone had access to E10, as well as access to the indoors, confirming earlier fears. It was moved inside, but for what? Lucio crosses his arms.

“Your heart rate is increasing. Try to take a deep breath and have a seat.” Athena’s voice calls out. He’s sure that if given a physical body, she would’ve pat his head and led him by the hand to the closest chair. 

“I’ll be good. It’s just, confusing the heck out of me. Who’d wanna take a camera from one place just to move it inside?” 

Winston clasps his chin and takes a seat on the floor.  
“It can’t be that serious of a reason… No one carries documents out of the briefing room, and the camera isn’t made to relay sound. It might’ve been a ploy. A trap, almost. To catch us off of our guard.”

Lucio nods. But who’d go to that extent just to toy with them? It wasn’t April, and most of their team members weren’t great prank artists. Hell, Reinhardt still thought that the water pail above the door gag was a knee slapper. A part of Lucio is suspicious, but for now he’s willing to cast aside the idea that there was any malicious intent behind the camera swap.

“Lucio, I need you to safeguard the perimeter. Outside, inside, anywhere. Just to make sure that there’s nothing else we should be concerned about. I’ll reinstall the camera once you’ve finished.”

Lucio nods. 

“On it.”

So now he was Gibraltar’s eyes and ears, huh? Something about that makes him feel good. Sneaky, sort of, but good. He was trusted enough to keep the place safe. 

“Oh! And before you go,” Winston follows Lucio as he makes for the door. He holds out his hand, palm up, revealing a small earpiece. “Be sure to report anything you see the minute you see it.”

It’s almost like being handed a badge of honor. Lucio takes it with a bright grin, plugging it into his ear. 

“Roger that, Winston.”

 

______

 

It probably would’ve been wise to ask how exactly a comm worked. 

Lucio realizes this as he skates around the South wing of the base, close to the outdoor shooting range. Maybe he just wasn’t hitting the right button? It looked way easier in the movies. They just tapped their ear and were able to get in touch with fellow comm users. He could tell it was fully functional; the low hum of the device in his right ear reassured him that it was charged and ready to be used. 

He considers taking it out to see if there were even buttons on the thing, but to no avail. It was tough pulling out such a small piece with such stubby fingers. 

Some distant mumbling pulls him out of his frustrated ear picking and back into the present. Did he loop back around to Winston’s lab? All the halls looked the same, and with no directory on where exactly he was with no other rooms nearby, he decides to go out on a limb and follow the voices. 

They’re not inside, he soon finds. They echo in the long hallway, from the outdoors. Had Winston decided to get someone else to help him check the area? It wasn’t like he couldn’t do it on his own. Maybe his inability to reach back to Winston had pushed him to call for someone else to keep their eyes open. Mei, maybe. Nervously, he continues to pick at the piece in his ear, hoping that it would either come out or switch on. 

As he approaches the exit, he finds that the slider door is left ajar. He doesn’t remember opening a door, nor does he recall hearing anyone going out. The training room outside wasn’t going to be open with all the mud and water everywhere, so why would anyone need to go outside? Lucio ponders this as he takes a look at the keypad. Someone opened it from the outside.

His blood runs cold, then. He can feel every hair on the back of his neck rise, and his lungs seem to shrink in his chest. Ominous open door, mumbling, secrecy? This had to be their culprit. Someone who could get in unheard and undetected by Athena. He doesn’t have his amp on him, but he has a semi functioning earpiece and speed on his side. With a deep breath, he steps out into the open.

He expects to find a group of bandits, or some secret spies in all black or all grey. Some tall, lanky super villains wearing dark shades and white gloves.  
What he does not expect to find is Genji.

Talking to… Who was that?

The two talk in a language he can’t quite understand. Definitely not english. The two men stand facing one another; Genji against the wall, and the other man before him, arms crossed. He had their thief right where they wanted him.They’re further down the ways from the door, far enough for Lucio to watch in comfort. Hurriedly he taps at the comm in his ear. Nothing. Not one spark of connection. How was he supposed to relay this find to Winston if he couldn’t get the damn thing on?

He ardently pokes at the device in his ear, before heatedly scooping it out with his pinky finger. Looks like it’d have to be manual.

It’s pried free, but at the expense of bouncing off of the top of his hand and out into the open. He quickly squats down to retrieve it. It was black, thankfully, and easily stood out against the metallic floor. It was small, so there couldn’t have been enough sound to alert their intruder.  
He reaches out in a rush, and nearly has his fingers crushed. A metal foot crashes down in almost complete silence, with two sharp plates at the toe and a teal glow coming from the heel. Definitely not Genji’s foot. 

It quickly busts the comm in an electrical pop that makes Lucio jump. The sound of a wire stretching catches his attention. 

An arrow. Pointed right between his eyes. A little less intimidating than a gun, but a threat he didn’t take lightly.

He raises his hands slowly, palms facing the assailant, fingers spread. His gaze quickly drops back to the floor.

“Alright, alright, take it easy. I don’t have anything on me, man.”

“Stand.” the voice demands. 

Lucio does so slowly, keeping his head down all the while. He can hear Genji quickly rush over and tell him something, clasping a hand over his shoulder and holding him back. It’s gotta be a distraction. His cue to make a move. And move he does. He was faster than an arrow, and would gladly prove that any day. Dropping back down to his knees, he swiftly kicks the elder’s legs out from under him, before taking hold of the bow in his hands. The arrow fires off, almost too close to Lucio’s ear for comfort, lodging itself into the frame of the slider door with a loud ‘twang’.  
Genji steps back in astonishment, and Lucio throws himself onto the man. If he got up, it was definitely game over.

However, as he clasps the bow and pushes down, something catches his eye. The same thing that caught his eye all those months ago.

Gold. Splayed across the muddy floor, glued down by it. It’s a long ribbon and looks worn out, its shimmer just barely made noticeable by the morning light. The design is simple enough, but it’s still a sight to behold for Lucio. All of this time, ever since that incident, he’d thought he was crazy. Overworked by nothing at all. Time felt as though it was moving slower, and seconds took hours to pass; the whole world, to Lucio, was moving in slow motion. He follows the ribbon’s trail to its owner, only having a few long moments to register the face of the man under him before time had all too suddenly caught up with him.

Lucio doesn’t have the time to voice his discovery, the realization throwing him off just as hard as the man under him does. The face of the bow is shoved hard into his chest, bumping him off and loosening his grip, before a foot collides with his stomach, kicking him back into mud with a dull thud. The man shouts at him in a language he can’t understand, quickly rising to his feet. Genji catches hold of his bow before he can use it again. 

Why didn’t he take this guy down when Lucio gave him the chance?

Lucio decides not to test his luck as the two men share harsh conversation. His comm was down, there was no one around, and taking this as another ‘cue’ would probably end the same way as the first. He stays on the ground, one hand over his stomach, and the other keeping him propped up. The man struggles for a comeback to something Genji said, choosing to glare down at Lucio as he fished for one. He was a big guy for how slim his legs were. A really big guy. 

The cyborg looks over to Lucio, before approaching with a heavy sigh, squatting and offering his hand.

It takes a moment, but Lucio takes it.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone to be nearby around this hour. I’m sorry.” Lucio glances over to the man behind Genji as they stand, who nonchalantly slides the bow string over his left shoulder. He’s got a cold scowl on his face, aimed directly at Lucio.

“Who is he?” it’s rude to ask anyone but him, but after that little scuffle it’s safer not to directly approach him.

Genji sighs softly. His visor hums in response. He looks over his shoulder to the man, and the two exchange some conversation. Foreign, of course, because doing the opposite of filling Lucio in was helpful somehow.

The next thing he knows, he’s being led silently through the take off deck. He’s never been so close to the shuttle before. Winston advised that they avoid this area unless absolutely necessary (since cutting through here from the gym was a pretty quick route back inside), so Lucio made it a point not to explore. At least, not too much.The hangar could be a pretty dangerous place if they weren’t careful.  
They approach a large steel bunker, ‘FUEL STORAGE WP-G’ painted onto the side of the building. Genji enters with ease. Apparently the access panels were still functional out here after all this time.

The man steps in first, eyeing the inside suspiciously. Genji ushers Lucio inside after, before closing the door behind all three of them. Something about this gave him a really bad feeling. 

Lucio decides to stick close to the door. The man leans against the wall parallel to the door, eyeing Lucio with an intensity that has him shifting from foot to foot idly. Genji stands between them, but it’s clear he stands closer to the man than to Lucio. His brow raises.

There’s silence as Genji looks for a way to break it.

“...Lucio-”

“If this is how your people act here, I believe it was a grave mistake to consider your word.”

“You already know why he-”

“It was impulsive. Actions from one speak for the group as a whole, and so far i’m beginning to question the approachability of this facility.”

“Hanzo,” Genji groans, irked by the boiling mood of the other. So that was his name.

Lucio chimes in immediately.

“Why’d you do it?”

Both men look his way. He swallows hard. The larger man - Hanzo - approaches him with squared shoulders.

“If you believe that I would let an insolent brat take me off of my guard without-”

Lucio steps away from the door, holding a finger up. “Not what I mean. I know why you did that. I’m talking about all the ‘sneaking around the base’ stuff.”

He stops mid stride, settling halfway between the wall and the smaller man. He looks to Genji, and Genji looks back.

Lucio takes a step forward slowly. “What are you here for, exactly? I’ve seen you before, I know I have. You have to have been here for a while under the radar, and apparently Genji knows that you’re here too. So what’s goin’ on?”

Lucio wasn’t even mad about the attack anymore. Both of them were in the wrong for that one. The only concern here now was the safety of their base - the safety of his people - now that he had him cornered. Hanzo looks away, crossing his arms and huffing something short under his breath.

Genji turns to Lucio.

“I can explain.”


	4. The New Guy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! Hopefully a longer chapter oughta make up for it <3
> 
> Also! I'm gonna be in the works of writing/editing chapter 5, so it may take a while for the next update, but if all goes well and time isn't a hassle to find, chapter 5 will be out in around 10 days o/
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! I'm glad y'all are here ^^

Hanzo Shimada. Genji’s older brother. Disbanded from bad times, and looking for a new start. Somehow this was the way that most Overwatch recruits ended up sounding in their portfolios. 

Genji hadn’t missed a detail in his explanation that day, covering every inch of what Lucio needed to know from the day Hanzo had arrived on the island to the conversation they were having out back when Lucio had stumbled in. He’d found Hanzo back in their hometown, encouraged him to find forgiveness through his own actions, and so he’d staked out at the watchpoint until Genji could smooth wrinkles in his story with Winston. Their plan was to play the waiting game until Winston could approve of Hanzo’s arrival without knowing of his presence. Lucio was a step too close to blowing their ploy out of the water with the confrontation. He knew almost everything now, but for some reason he still felt, lost. Like there were still pieces missing. 

It was sneaky coming from someone like Genji of all people. He was honest, wise, and really took after his teacher. Hearing that he’d hid someone for almost half of a year felt… wrong.

You did what you had to for family, Lucio understood more than anyone. He hoped he could still find understanding in this situation.

It’s been a few days now; the recruitment process took a while, he knew, but by the end of it all he would be admitted to Overwatch’s ranks. For now he was listed as ‘Overwatch personnel’ until they could run through his private files and properly place him into a collection in their roster; Offense, Defense, Support, or Tank. Lucio doubted he’d make the latter, but the other three categories all seemed to be fair enough game. 

Most of the group was open about the ordeal. A new face meant that Overwatch was still a welcomed organization, and that with enough time they’d be able to fully rebuild the name of the once famed militia. As Lucio stood among the group, he’d seen plenty of kind smiles, eager hands, and warm welcomes. It was hard to muster the same energy himself, but regardless, Lucio offered his hand as the man passed by. There was a pause, but more out of obligation than genuine interest did Hanzo give it a short pump. He was pretty sure that if Hanzo hadn’t, suspicion would rise, and the ruse would fall apart right in front of everyone in the room. 

The only one who seemed to be just as weary as him was Lena. She’d said something before about someone carrying through with, something. Was this it? Had she known about this, too? He doesn’t want to believe that someone as close as Lena would keep this from him, but after the events in the last couple of weeks, he wouldn’t cast out the idea of her playing a part in this.

It’s later in the medbay that Lucio sees the brunt of Hanzo’s earlier reluctance. 

With Angela away somewhere in Mongolia until October, the only medic close enough to get a medical report from Hanzo just so happened to be Lucio. She was off on undercover work and wouldn’t be back anytime soon to perform her own medical examination. She’d suggested taking care of the basics, and sending her his results in order to look them over while she was out of the office. She was more than sure that he would be able to get everything covered no problem.

Lucio, on the other hand, wasn’t as confident in her confidence.

Sure, he’d gotten a good year of practice back in Rio before joining himself, but he’d be lying if he said he was 100% sure about doing so after all that time without practice. The anxiety of performing his first examination paired with the tension of being alone in a room with the guy you rough housed just a little under a week ago? Lucio, for once, really wasn’t feeling it.

His preferences wouldn’t kick Hanzo out of the medbay, however. Said man sat on the cushioned bench with low brows and skewed eyes, his suspect gaze honed in on every single move Lucio made. Lucio watched his gaze awkwardly in the tinted windows behind the desk as he stood over Angela’s laptop, trying his best to come off as anything but apprehensive. Hanzo wouldn’t try and spring any form of attack in the confidentiality of their medical room. Would he..?

He gulps, a sound that - much to his dismay- echoes in the silence of the room. It’s tense in here. Way too quiet. He can hear his own heart beating in his ears, and fears for a moment that Hanzo can hear it too. 

With a deflated sigh, Lucio quickly flips a tab on the radio sitting at the edge of the desk, meddling with the knobs until he’d found a channel that pushed out something other than static. In the window he sees Hanzo’s arms cross. His gaze is something just short of anger… Annoyance?

He’d need to stop being so jittery if he wanted to do this right. He just needed to breathe.

“Right,” he starts, taking this opportunity to relax himself as he spoke across the room. “So! Uh, got your weight and height down. Considering what we got from Angela’s charts, you’re a few pounds overweight.” 

What a great way to start. Hanzo looks to him offended, and Lucio quickly holds a hand up.

“Now hold on! That’s just from your height to weight ratio! I don’t think that’s something you really gotta worry about here, though. With the training we do, I doubt it’ll take long to get you back where you’re supposed to be.” 

Hanzo unwinds, but Lucio can see him look down to his stomach for the brief moment that he does. Lucio, eager to distract himself from the awkward response, quickly clicks over to the questionnaire Angela had left behind.

“Do you smoke? Or like, have you lately?”

There’s silence for a moment, but Hanzo pipes up.

“No.”

Lucio types it in.

“It’s good to hear that. How ‘bout drinking? Do any of that?” 

Hanzo shrugs. “Occasionally.”

Lucio himself kept drinking as something you did as celebration over something you did for pleasure. Sometimes alcohol could be a nasty thing. He looks over to Hanzo a little.

“When’d you start?” 

Hanzo squints. “My personal affairs are none of your business.”

“It’s just for the check up, dude.” Lucio reassures him. “Angela needs that sort of stuff.”

Hanzo groans under his breath.

“20.” comes his delayed response.

“S’cuse me?”

“I started when I was 20.”

After some further questioning about his diet, routine exercise, and sexual activity (something that neither of them really delved into after the initial question), Lucio was more than ready to do a rundown of his vitals and forget the entirety of this check up.

He busts out the sphygmomanometer and latches it over his upper arm, doubting for a moment that it would fit over his bicep.

“Neat ink.” Lucio hums as he squeezes the ball connected to the brace, nodding to his left arm. Some kind of dragon with what had to be more than a hundred detailed scales, clouds inked around swirls and bends, and lightning in a gold that almost shone under the light in the medbay. A whole sleeve with that kind of detail had to take more than half of a day to finish.

Hanzo looks to his arm, but says nothing. 

Lucio continues.

Rolling his own shoulder towards Hanzo, he gives it a small shrug. “Mine’s not as fancy, but I think it’s pretty sick. I got it when I was sixteen back in Rio with my cousin.”   
He smirks at the memory, vaguely recalling all the other frog related nicknames he was given as a tease to his tattoo. Variations of ‘frogger’ and ‘hops’ were also used a lot. 

“It’s tight.” Hanzo responds monotonously.

For a second there Lucio thought he was referring to his tattoo. It almost startled him, thinking that someone like Hanzo would be down with slang like that. It’s only when Hanzo nods curtly to the brace around his arm that Lucio takes a hint at what he’s referring to as ‘tight’. He quickly reads over the results in a short panic, chuckling awkwardly as he undid it. It’s a normal reading, thankfully. Lucio quickly enters it in.

The evasion, however, was starting to grow unbearable. Lucio really didn’t like the idea of a grudge being what prevented them from speaking like adults. They’d be working together, no doubt, and if he was going to be living on the base they’d at least need to be civil. Sighing, he turns in his chair a bit towards Hanzo, tapping the desk top before him softly with an open palm. How should he word this?

“Look Hanzo, I’m sorry about the other day. I don’t normally drop kick people when I meet ‘em.”

He chuckles, but the joke is obviously missed. Or ignored. He clears his throat awkwardly.

“What happened was stupid, and really risky. I didn’t know what you and Genji laid out, and I was just, doin’ what I thought was quick knowing all I knew. And all I knew was that there was some dude who could get in and out of the base, which is pretty scary when your whole team is stranded on an island, thing. You do what you gotta do to protect your people, y’know?”

Hanzo seems to process that last part, looking aside and narrowing his brows. He just hopes that something in his little speech got through to him. Plugging the buds of the stethoscope into his ears, he taps the small plate a few times as he approaches Hanzo once more. Setting it just over Hanzo’s chest, he instructs him to breathe in. He does so. A normal heartbeat. No increase, and it wasn’t slow. When he tries to move it to his back, however, he’s met with more hassle.

“I can’t hear if there’s a problem with your lungs if all I hear is your heart beating, now.”

He proceeds. 

Deep breathing and the lingering buzz of a music station is all that fills the room. As he pulls away to rest the plate on his stomach, Hanzo’s voice surprises him.

“Why do you all settle here?” he asks in a low hum of sound, something that buzzes in his ears through the stethoscope.   
“You are all at risk here, huddled in one place together.”

His brow raises at that. What’d he mean by THAT?

“Winston likes to say that it’s ‘cause keeping a group in the same place would help build that ‘family bond’ Overwatch used to have. But honestly? Most bases around the world were shut down or closed off.”

“For what reason?”

 

“Well, Lena told me that when Overwatch disbanded, they shut down and cleaned out all of the ports in almost every country where other members lived to keep it out for good. Like, there was one in Rio at one point, I knew where it was as a kid. But I got moved here because the one close to me was put out of commission. Overwatch was seriously knocked out of the field. But since Winston lived here, they didn’t shut it down or drive him out. They just kept it lowkey. So now, ‘til Overwatch gets back up on it’s feet and we get the funding to reopen everything, we’re all sorta stuck here together.”

Hanzo seems displeased hearing the last part of his explanation, sighing deeply. Lucio pulls the stethoscope away and shrugs.

“Can’t be too mad at it. At least the view’s nice, right?”

The elder seems to understand that that’s a joke at least, huffing out what Lucio thinks might be a laugh. It’s progress. Pulling the buds out of his ears and throwing the long cord over his shoulder, he returns to the desk. 

“Well, looks like I got everything Angela asked for. You already signed in, filled out your half… sweet. Alright! I guess you’re good to-... go?”

Hanzo makes his way out as Lucio speaks. Each step he took fell mute on the metal floor, and had Lucio not turned when he did he was sure he would’ve missed him.

Lucio can do nothing but stare as the door slowly creaks to a close.

 

___________

 

“And then he just, left. Gone with the wind!” 

Torbjörn, turned off to the current conversation, pretended to listen as he drilled together his newest prototype. A turret with twice the firing power as the first and a built in self repair system, something like past Bastion models had to save time out on the field. This was going to be his big comeback for their first mission, he’d claimed. He’d just need to put it through a few test runs and make sure it didn’t overheat or fire at random. It’s only when Lucio calls his name does he reengage. Plugging his pinky finger into his ear and giving it a twirl, the shorter man sighs.

“You sound so much like my daughter,” Torbjörn chortles. “Always complaining about boys, fussin’ and itchin’ for ‘em to talk with her. Swears left and right that all of that doesn’t matter, and still comes back at the end of the day kickin’ up a fit over ‘em.”

Lucio knows it’s a taunt. He rolls his eyes.

“He’s probably still getting the hang of being around so many different people.”

Lucio props himself up on Torbjörn’s workbench with a sigh, leaning back on his palms.

“What’re your thoughts on him?”

Torbjörn sighs. “Whatcha mean?”

“Like, what do you think about him?”

“Well now you really sound like my daughter-”

“I’m not asking it like that!” Lucio’s laughter comes more as a response to the awkward picture of himself as a squirmy teenage girl than it does to his friend’s joke. He leans forward, propping his forearms on his knees, and his chin into his hands.

“The last few recruits have all been pretty open and stuff. Now we got someone older who’s super quiet. How’s it feel?”

Torbjörn takes a moment to think about this, idly swiping a thick hand over the head of his turret. His lip curves up in thought, reflected by the tilt of the mustache on his upper lip and the scrunch of his nose. For a minute, Lucio wonders what was under all that facial hair.   
Patting his turret as he finishes his thought, he turns back with a shrug.

“I’m not so sure what you’re hopin’ to get out of me, Lucio.” he settles back into his chair, rolling it in closer to where Lucio was propped up. “Haven’t said more than three words to him, even.” Lucio nods into his palms. He’d almost forgotten that he and Genji were the only ones on the base that’d seen and said more to him than anyone else.

Looking askance, Lucio decides to observe his skate in detail.

“You got something you need to get off your chest?” Torbjön mumbles close, raising a furry brow. Lucio shakes his head. He didn’t need to find out about something that didn’t matter anymore.

“Nah, I think i’m good. Just tryna be the good guy, you know? Make sure no one’s got any ill feelings towards a new guy or anything like that. Gotta give everyone a fair start when they join, right?”

The dwarf nods, reaching under the work bench with a smile.

“You’ve got it down better than most of us.” The sound of a door registers in Lucio’s mind as he spaces off, Torbjörn withdrawing a Heineken and briskly popping the cap off on the ledge of the bench before taking a generous swig of it.

“You think it’ll be weird?” He asks Lucio with a light attitude. 

“What?”

“Well, with Genji here ‘n all. They’re related, you see. Think it’ll be weird having them both in the same spot?”

Lucio doesn’t seem to really get it. He sits up a little straighter.

“I think it’d be pretty cool. What’s weird with them?”

Lucio pauses. Alarm quickly claims his features. “They’re not like, you know…?”

He makes a gesture that stirs a smack to the arm from Torbjörn. 

“Get yer mind outta that gutter! Of course not!”

Lucio blows a sigh of relief. “Okay! Good! Good, just making sure that, uh- yeah.” 

Torbjörn waves a hand with a rough “bah” of a sound, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Their ordeal is a story one of them tell you. It isn’t my business goin’ around talking about it for them.”

Lucio nods.

After a pause, he reaches out to the other, slowly patting Torbjörn’s shoulder. “Sorry for that mental image, man.”

He shrugs, leaning back into his chair.

“Give me a few drinks and i’ll forget you ever mentioned it.”

 

___________

 

Lucio’s more than relieved to find Mccree at the table when he walks into the dining hall that afternoon. Mccree being the early bird meant that he wasn’t in the kitchen, which meant that he wasn’t cooking. He wasn’t sure how much more “western cuisine” he’d be able to handle in the month.

Mei sat across from him in a loose T-shirt and a pair of yoga pants, nodding attentively at the man in front of her. She’s smiling more than usual, and from the looks of it her smiles were contagious. Mccree was practically gleaming, flirtatiously tipping his hat to her. 

Lucio almost feels bad about breaking them up as he all but flopped into his seat at the table. Red in the cheeks, both Mei and Mccree assumed more casual sitting positions as Lucio leaned into the table. 

“You guys inviting me to the wedding after lunch?” he chimes playfully, crossing his arms on the table. Mccree rubs his metal palm over the back of his neck, seemingly finding relief for his reddened neck in the cool texture of his prosthetic.

“You’re a real card.” he scoffs. 

“Who’s cookin’ today?” Lucio asks casually.

“Reinhardt lept into the kitchen before anyone else could. He said he wanted everyone to actually eat their food today.” Mei sighs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Lucio nods.

“So, by anyone you mean Mccree, right?” 

Mccree scowls, and Mei’s shoulders bounce with her short laughter. “Yes.” 

“It’s food you gotta work up a taste for.” Mccree cuts in hopelessly, brows furrowed. “Y’all are just impatient.” 

Lucio cocks his brow. “Not really fair to have everyone running a 2K race just to appreciate some bread and gravy.” 

Mccree bitterly grumbles out something that has to do with people being too picky. Lucio isn’t the one who has to respond to his sourness, however, as the others soon flood into the cafeteria. Torbjörn takes his spot beside Lucio, leaning over the table in order to hold better conversation, Winston slips in with a pleasant ‘good afternoon’, and Lena flashes in with an excited report about a new simulation she wanted to try next Wednesday. The only one missing now was Reinhardt, whom he could hear singing some song to himself loudly behind the steel doors leading to the kitchen. 

As the table gets settled into their routine, Lucio scans the room. When he sees Hanzo enter, part of him leaps at the idea of waving him over to join them. He restrains himself, instead watching as the man seated himself close to the exit, laying down a projector before him and opening the screen. He probably still had a lot to do in order to get a uniform and a proper position on the team. Lucio recalls the month it took just to get his own name into the system, as well as his records and family associations. Athena was a hyper intelligent resource, but she could only do so much at a time with all the other stuff she was programmed to complete. 

“Anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” Mccree’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and only then does he realize how long he’d been ‘taking a glance’ at Hanzo.

“My bad,” Lucio briefly pushes out, turning his attention back to the group. “What’s happenin’?”

Mei turns to Lucio with a small smile.

“I was wondering if you’ve talked to him yet.” something inside of the younger man tenses. Oh they’ve talked alright.

“Uh, yeah. We got a few words in earlier today. I wouldn’t say it was a conversation, though.”

She nods, rubbing her chin. 

“Did you want to ask him and see if he wanted to join us? I feel awful seeing him sit alone.”

Everyone at the table pauses to turn their heads and gawk at her.

Her brow raises. “What?”

“I’m not sayin’ that it’s a bad idea, but i’m gonna go out on a limb and say that if he’d wanted to be sitting in a group, he woulda done it when he came in.” Mccree speaks for almost everyone in the group. Lucio looks to Hanzo, hoping that he didn’t overhear their discussion and leave.

“What if he’s shy? There are many different people here, and maybe it’s a big change after living in a place that wasn’t so diverse.”

“Men ain’t shy, especially when you’re a big man like that. He’s takin’ care of his business.”

Lucio knew that was a lie. If men weren’t shy, Mccree was definitely not a man. 

Reinhardt exits the kitchen with an ecstatic call for an extra pair of hands to help pass out lunch, and Mei stands up promptly. Mccree looks helpless, in a way. Her mind was made up. 

“You’re all being immature. I’ll go and ask him.”

Just the smell of today’s lunch could fill Lucio up. A strong aroma with meaty undertones, fresh and hot, definitely promising. His mouth waters unconsciously, and he rubs his hands together. He waits to see Mccree deny that it smelled as good as it did, or compare it to his own food and kick up a fun argument, but all he does is stare as Mei sets a heavy tray before Winston, himself, and Mccree before taking off for the new guy.

They all watch out of the corner of their eyes as Mei approaches the table with a tray, bowing respectfully to the man.

At first he seems distant, only offering a glance up at her, then to the tray, before returning his attention to the hologram before him. Mei stalls, but eventually bounces back. Lucio can hear her ask if he needed anything else. Silence.

Just as the group gives up interest, Mei pipes up softly in a new tongue. It had to be Japanese, because it did the trick. Hanzo looks up to her with a raised brow. Lucio, in order to avoid being caught staring, idly cuts up the bratwurst on his tray. Glazed and drowned in gravy, he begins to make sections for himself for when Mei returned.

Soon enough, Hanzo is speaking back to her, which really catches the attention of everyone at the table. 

From what Lucio sees, Mei seats herself close to him, conversing with light attitude about something he can’t understand. At one point, he even hears Hanzo chuckle, a sound that greatly differed from the harsh one he’d heard in the medbay. He was sure they’d be on better terms if he hadn’t dropped the guy upon meeting him.

Lucio watches the two converse just a little over his shoulder; the soft nods, the polite smiles, and even the motions to the screen before Hanzo.

He briefly looks over to Mccree, who is definitely not being discreet about his eavesdropping. 

“Anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” Lucio mocks Mccree’s earlier statement in a hushed tone, grinning and raising his brow.

The man stays quiet, but re engages with everyone at the table after a moment more of staring, insisting they mind their business and eat. It’s tense as Lena and Lucio share light conversation to keep the mood alive, Mccree keeping his eyes plastered to his meal. 

Compliments run high as they all dig into their food, and as lunch draws to a close, everyone slips away at their own pace. Mccree is the first to leave, insisting that he had to inspect a loose bolt in his arm. Torbjörn and Reinhardt take off next, followed by Lena (who pats Lucio’s arm and asks him to meet her out at the shooting range) and Winston. Lucio rises from his seat, assuming that he’d be the one to tidy up the dining hall for today. Hanzo and Mei rise as well, taking off together, still locked into a conversation. 

Lucio heads to the kitchen for a rag and some clorox spray.

 

___________

 

The time spent at the shooting range definitely helps the two unwind from the afternoon’s tension. They laugh at the awkward lunch over rounds in a test dummy’s body, Lucio taking this time to work on his aim a bit. It was hard to condense sound into a tight enough frequency to deliver anything more than a push, but Lucio was sure that he could find a way to compromise with the less dangerous aspects of his ‘weapon’.

“Plan to name that song?” Lena asks, reloading her pulse pistols with a whir of sound, referring to the tune he was using as white noise while they practiced.

“I might.” He grins, leaning against the wall. He tilts the amp back and looks over the speaker, tapping the symbol - his symbol - in the middle thoughtfully. 

“How’s ‘Turntable Tirania’ sound?” 

Lena purses her lips, twirling her pistol around her index.

“Catchy name, catchy beat! I say it’s a go!”

It wasn’t a scripted piece he was really working on. To him, it was more a side project that would stir up some inspiration for future additions to his album. Synaesthesia Auditiva had yet to receive a new release, after all. Maybe this little project would help end this record and push him into something new.

An hour passes before the two are relaxed enough to head back to the dormitories, exchanging friendly shoves as they teased about one another’s aim. Lucio could only knock bots back for the time being, and Lena was only able to blast the arms off. But if Lucio had to be honest, he was pretty sure that Lena’s aim was only lacking because of how much they were talking as they practiced.

Lucio’s thankful that someone like Lena can take the edge out of any situation.

As they split, Lucio notices Mei just a little down the way from them, the events from this afternoon coming back to him. Shaking Lena’s shoulders a bit, he wishes her a good evening before darting to catch up with Mei.

Though numbed by his time with Lena, the curiosity of their exchange during lunch ate at the back of Lucio’s mind relentlessly. He just had to know what she’d said to get him to respond for as long as he did. It was probably none of his business, but then again, it was okay to ask if it was friend to friend, right?

Should he bother asking?

A bit of rethinking goes in as he slows down, but it’s too late to turn back when Mei waves to him and stops so he can catch up.

Just this once, it wouldn’t hurt to instigate just a little.

“Hey! Nice catchin’ up to you here.”

She chuckles. “I live in this hall, silly. How are you?”

Lucio rolls his shoulders some, hands on his hips. “I’m good. Me and Lena just got done doin’ a little target practice. What about you?”

“Ah, I’m good too! Winston and I had tea. He wants me to come in early tomorrow for more research on the arrow head we found.”

Lucio’s teeth tighten with his smile. She had to be up early tomorrow. Would disturbing her now make it tougher for her to get some rest?

“Oh, really? That’s neat.” he crosses his arms behind his back casually. “But uh, hey, about what happened at lunch today…” how could he word this? He didn’t want to intrude if it was something she wanted to keep private. What did he want to gain from knowing, anyway? Some peace of mind? How could she get him to have a conversation?

“Ah, you’re curious too.” Mei puffs, raising her brow. 

Shit.

“Uh, hey if it ain’t any of my-”

“It’s okay. Mccree’s asked me a few times today, but I think it’s because he’s angry. Are you, asking for him?” 

“Me? Nah. I know it probably bothered him, but I don’t play messenger like that.”

She nods. She knows she can rely on him to tell the truth.

“Well, if you can take a little time to come with me to my room, I can tell you a little bit. Do you mind?”

Lucio raises his brow. “I thought I couldn’t go in there?”

“It’s not for anything crazy. It’s more private than the hallway. Come on!”

 

Taking him by the hand, she calmly leads him down the hall to her room, marked with a little post it that read “currently out”. Taking it off, she enters the code to her room briefly, stepping aside to allow Lucio in as the door slid open with a warbled swish of sound.

Nodding, he enters. Mei catches him at the entrance and asks that he steps out of his shoes. He’d forgotten that that was a sort of custom, and promptly stepped out of them and sat them beside the entrance. She follows shortly, and shuts the door behind her. 

Lucio looks around with interest, taking in the decor. 

She was definitely not as organized as Lucio had thought she’d been. As soon as he’d stepped in, his attention was brought to the array of pink and yellow post-its on the wall her desk was pressed against, as well as the growing stacks of paper piled on the desk top. A small bookcase sat across from where her bed was, stuffed with novels and binders of varying sizes, all with different tabs and bookmarks sticking out of their pages. On top of the bookcase sat a file that lie open, a small lamp, and a bottle of water. Pens sat around the file, some capped, and some left open to dry. A waste bin placed close to the side of it held a few crumpled up papers, more of them sitting outside of it than inside. The bed that was parallel to this bookcase seemed to be the only thing partially neat, bed sheets tugged straight in what looked like a rushed action, pillows tossed into order on top of it. Two towels, one blue and the other white, were hooked over the headboard of it, and a jacket hung off of the foot of the bed. The walls held a few framed pictures, some of her and what had to be her family, and a few of her and friends. Two posters were plastered beside the small window next to her desk, both in a language he couldn’t read. From the looks of it, they seemed to be articles. Or, rather, the covers of them; a polar bear with it’s cub in a snowy tundra, and the drone that she had. Maybe a new model?

Her room holds a certain level of confidentiality, like that of a teacher’s office. Lucio almost felt like he was in trouble for something being in here. Regardless, it’s a lot better on the eyes than all of the equipment, tools, and posters he had scattered about his own room. 

She offers him a seat at her desk, closing up opened files and quickly dealing with the mess of papers and pens.

“Nice place you got.” Lucio compliments as he takes a seat, chest facing the back of the chair. 

She bows her head, taking a seat on her bed. “Thank you. Sorry for the mess.”

He reassures her that it’s fine.

There’s a moment of silence, before Lucio raises his head, propping an arm up on the head of the chair.

“So, what went down, exactly..?’

Mei nods, getting comfortable in her spot on the bed.

“Well, when he wouldn’t talk to me in english, I assumed that he didn’t speak it. So, I decided to try and speak in his language to see if that would be any different.”

“Pause.” Lucio cuts in, astonished. “Where’d you pick up Japanese?”

“Oh! I wasn’t so sure I’d be able to speak it properly, but after a trip to Kōshū, I had learned some of the language myself. It was for a research trip that had to do with the air pollution levels there. Another trip to Ningbo helped me improve it, because there were Chinese speakers there too.”

Lucio nods, genuinely impressed. She soaked up information like a sponge, really. Lucio was sort of envious of that.

“But, anyway, he responded more when I spoke to him in a language he knew, and he felt more comfortable knowing that I was the only other fluent speaker. I guess he really liked that no one else knew what he was saying?”

She shifts a bit. “He told me about how he’d flown here after Genji offered him a place on the team, and that he wasn’t sure if he was making the right choice. I think what he really wants being here is a friend.”

“So, I offered to lend a hand if he ever needed it. I think he was comfortable knowing that he had someone else to talk to. Winston says that he and his brother don’t get along very well, so, I’m glad he was able to trust me.”

“He did have something to say about you, funny enough.” Lucio’s head raises from his arm. He’d said something about him?

“What’d he say?” he’s almost too eager to know, leaping for the information in such a way.

“He told me that Kaeru- that’s you, he doesn’t know your name yet - was the only one who was honest about his discomfort with him being here.”

Discomfort? He was the one sneaking around the base! If anyone had the right to be uncomfortable, it was definitely Lucio.

Mei watches his eyebrows furrow, and leans forward towards him a bit.

“Does he make you uncomfortable, Lucio?”

“What? No! No, it’s not- I’m just a little…?”

Mei nods. “It’s okay to be shy, Lucio. I say, tomorrow, we let him join us for the morning meal. Maybe by spending a little more time getting to know him, he will feel more comfortable with us? You’re a very nice team member- maybe he needs to see you to know that we’re nice people, too.”

Lucio was sure that had they not had that violent confrontation, Hanzo would probably think he was a nice guy too. Or, at the very least, a little overbearing. He couldn’t be the emblem of the team given his situation. Covering for a guy who’d been here the entire time AND his brother, as well as acting as though they’d never made any contact with one another around the others.

“I know it can be weird, joining for the first time. Maybe just, being nice can help him get adjusted.”

“Maybe.”

Lucio stares hard at the foot of her bed, deep in thought. Something occurs to him in his thinking. The arrow head. Hanzo had an arrow drawn at him, and a bow. There wasn’t suspicion that he could’ve been their bow wielding assailant - that was already a given. The only worry now was him getting found out. Winston would soon put two and two together, and bring him into questioning. What if he and Genji got busted for hiding Hanzo here? Would they be booted from the team? Would they be held back from the upcoming mission? Lucio was playing a very risky part by acting like he didn’t know about anything, and slowly that fear was beginning to catch up with him. 

His foot thumps against the floor anxiously, before Mei breaks him from his fears.

“It’s getting late, and you look very tired..” Lucio looks to the clock on her wall. 9:13 PM. He nods.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Mhm. Lucio, before you leave, could I ask you something?”

Lucio nods to her, raising from his seat and pushing the chair in.

“What’s up?”

“If you could, ask Mccree to meet me in the cafeteria early tomorrow. Just before 7.”

Lucio chuckles softly, stepping into his shoes.

“Now I don’t like playing messenger, but..” He opens the door. “I think he’ll really like to hear yours.”

 

___________

 

July 18th, a public appearance and signing in Sydney. July 26th, a performance in Indonesia. Two underground gigs August 1st and 3rd in Santa Rita. Lucio goes through his schedule with a familiar warmth bubbling in his chest, circling dates and making small notes in the date boxes. Three months until his first mission, and almost a year until his next concert. He’d wondered how his fans were doing with him being away for so long. He’d had to go under the radar for the sake of joining Overwatch, but he was reluctant to abandon the life of a DJ. Winston had warned that he wouldn’t be able to make it to every date he had set up, and Lucio knew this well. As support, if any of their other healers weren’t in the vicinity, he would have to be their first line. 

It would be hard, taking so much time away from his passion, but he was confident that once Overwatch was up and running again, he’d be able to take post in Rio, and keep up his life of music and partying. It’s a hope that keeps him going every day he sits here in Gibraltar, wondering about family and friends. It’s all for the good of the people, and in the end, he’d be giving back to the millions who had given him so much. 

He can hear knocking at his door, a distant sound in Lucio’s mind as he was consumed by thoughts of home.

“It’s open!”

He had a horrible habit of not locking his door, it seemed.

It slides open in a soft hiss of sound, and the hum of motors easily informs him of his guest. He looks over from his schedule to the cyborg at the door, almost at a loss for words. He knew who it would be, but the idea of him of all people visiting him was a shocker. Genji had never stopped by his room before.

“Sup?” Lucio asks after a moment, nodding his head to him in greeting.

Genji nods back, tapping the button at the keypad and closing the door behind himself.

“I’ve come to see how things went today.”

Lucio raises his brow. “What d’you mean?” 

“With Hanzo today.”

Oh boy…

Lucio takes a deep breath, setting aside his calendar and inviting Genji to sit on the other end of his bed.

“Well, it was, interesting. I had to get a medical report for him to send to Winston and Angela. That was, an experience. Don’t think it changed what went down last week, though.”

“I could understand why it wouldn’t.” Genji sighs, taking his seat at the edge of the bed.

“Yeah. But, so far, that’s all that’s really happened between us. Not a whole lot about him I can talk about for you.”

Genji looks disappointed almost, his visor tipping down and his shoulders deflating, as though he was relying on Lucio to be able to tell him how his brother was functioning in their group without Genji there to see himself. Lucio hadn’t known it was a job given to him unconsciously, but he was sure Genji understood that he wasn’t a mind reader. The elder nods.

“I see… well, then how about your day?”

A smile slowly creeps onto Lucio’s face. The first legitimate conversation he and Genji have ever had in his stay here. As far and few between as conversations with Genji were, talking with him wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. The conversation was smooth, transitions were easy and almost fluid, as though they’d known each other well for years.

He asks about Genji’s day, and he talks about a letter he’d received from Angela that reminded him to keep himself active, and take time out of his day to take his mask off and get a little fresh air on his skin. He jokes about how much she acts like his mother, but something in his tone makes Lucio believe that that was something he appreciated. Angela was a good woman, Lucio believed. She had a good head on her shoulders, and only wanted to help people. He wasn’t surprised that someone like Genji would take interest in her.

“I’m sure she doesn’t get much rest where she’s at,” the man continues, sighing softly. “So I’ve asked that she try to get as much as she can manage, and come back soon, good and well.”

Lucio smirks, swinging a leg off of the side of his bed. He was definitely into her.

“You know, when I contact Angela, I feel a sort of, emotion, for her well being. For her happiness and safety. I’m not sure how you describe it in English, but, all I can say is that, it reminds me why it is important to stay close to the people you care for, even if to them it seems ridiculous. A bond is given as easily as it is taken… And, it is important that we keep these connections we care for safe. I never take her for granted, and to you I advise that you never take those close to you for granted.”

Lucio stares at Genji considerately, nodding his head after a brief pause. “That was heavy.”

“Heavy, alright.” Genji rises to his feet with a soft chuckle, a sound that warbles with mechanic whirrs. “I’m glad we could talk, Lucio. I will take my leave. Rest well.”

The younger man nods, straightening up as Genji made for the door.

“You bet. G’night.”

The door opens, and then closes. Lucio sits there in the numbing silence for what felt like hours, contemplating Genji’s advice. He’d never taken anyone that he cared about for granted. He always considered people he could connect with as family, and trusted them with aspects of himself that he kept away from the public eye. Maybe it’s got a meaning to it that isn’t meant to be taken at face value. Like, watch out for unlikely friends, or something cryptic like that. 

Lucio slowly takes up his calendar again, sinking back into his pillows.

Opening it up, he returns his eyes to the circled dates. July 18th, July 26th, August 1st and 3rd.

Maybe on one of his tours he’d invite the Overwatch crew to come and watch him perform for a live audience. VIP passes and front row seats? He could hook them up. A conversation with his manager would easily make that a possibility.

Lucio stares at the ceiling for a short while, before an entertaining thought crosses his mind.

He wonders if Hanzo’s ever been to a concert before.

**Author's Note:**

> This'll be my first time ever writing a chapter fic, so bear with me here. Posting the first chapter as an experiment to see if anyone's interested in some sLOW BURN! 
> 
> If this hits off well, I'll be sure to post chapter two soon. Rarepairs don't get a lot of light often, but hopefully this fic appeals to that need for build up in the ship.
> 
> As always, thank you guys so much for reading!


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